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ife of Frank Edvjards 



Army of North err* Yhglnh 



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FRANK EDWARDS 

As he appears to-day, fifty years after the events herein narrated. 



ARMY LIFE 



() F 



FRANK EDWARDS 

CONFEDERATE VETERAN. 



Army of Northern Virginia 



1861-1865 






C0PYRK;HTED may, 1911 

FRANK EDWARDS, 
LaGrange, Ga. 



i'l 







As the author appeared in che war on his \va\' "to the last ditch. 



PREFACE 



My Comrades and Fellow Citizens : — 

It is conceded by all nations that in the great strug- 
gle between the States from 1861 to 1865 the soldiers 
of the South won imperishable glory by their patriot- 
ism, faithfulness, bravery and self-sacrifice in defense 
of justice and honor. 

1 was mustered in the service of the Confederate 
Army in August, 1861, in Richmond, Virginia. 

I am not boasting; I did everything in my power 
to discharge my duty as a Confederate soldier. I 
was never arrested during the four years, and hardly 
ever failed to stack arms with the company, even in 
forced marches of thirty-five miles, and even forty-five 
miles. I was in most all of the great battles that were 
fought, from Seven Pines to Manassas ; from Sharps- 
burg to Maryland, to Fredericksburg, to Chancellors- 
ville ; from there to Gettysburg ; from the Wilderness 
to bpottsylvania Court House, where General Gor- 
don made that wonderful charge ; and at the final 
battle and subsequent surrender at Appomattox Court 
House. I was in a great many battles, but fortunately 
was never wounded — except slightly at Chancellors- 
ville and slightly at Fredericksburg. 

I will not undertake to give you the history as I 
saw it, of all the battles. I have heard a great many 
say "the yankees never fought," l)ut I tell you they 
never failed where I was. I was always ready to let go. 

In the winter of '61 and '62, our command was on 
the Potomac, just below Washington City. In Feb- 
ruary, '62, I was sent to Richmond with the measles. 
I remained there one month. About the 15th of 
March, '62, Senator B. H. Hill was to speak at the 
capitol, Richmond. President Davis and his cabinet 
and a good many officers of the Confederate Army 
were present. I was convalescing at the time. I was 



4 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

not an officer, but I put a little red strip on my collar 
and in the dark you would have to look the second 
time to see whether I was an officer. The meeting 
was at night. I was there, one for Hill from LaGrange, 
Georgia. Everybody wanted to hear the great orator 
from Georgia. The great hall was full and overflow- 
ing. I considered myself fortunate indeed. Senator 
Hill arose to make his address ; he certainly had the 
attention of that magnificent body of men. Just at 
that moment Col. Gus Bull, of LaGrange, and General 
Pettigrew, of North Carolina, entered the hall. As 
they arose the officers arose to greet them. The 
Hon. Alex Stephens was near the speaker's stand. 
Senator Hill motioned to Mr. Stephens to come over, 
together with General Joe Johnston. They whispered 
together a few moments and then Senator Hill arose 
and said : "The program for the present will be 
changed. Colonel Bull from Georgia will address you. 
Colonel Bull is one of my best counsels, and besides 
is from LaGrange, Georgia, the dearest spot on earth, 
my home. You will certainly be entertained." Colonel 
Bull arose and said, "I am certainly unprepared for 
this occasion." About that time the whole house arose 
and cheered for Colonel liull. Colonel Bull came 
around to the speaker's stand. It seemed that the 
building trembled, so great was the uproar in his 
honor. I desire to say this much for his home people 
and for the State of Georgia : The speech that he 
made that night has never been equaled but a very 
few times, if at all, in the great capitol building of 
Virginia, and you know some of the nation's greatest 
orators and statesmen have been reared in Virginia. 
I never heard such applause as was given Colonel 
Bull on that occasion. Do you have any conception 
as to how I felt? I was listening to the Colonel of 
the Twenty-fifth Georgia regiment, of which I was 
a member. 

My comrades and friends, if for no otlier purpose 
have I lived for forty-six years than to write of that 
great occasion, I am glad. -»! feel proud that I am 
here to give honor to whom honi^r is due. It was 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK HOWARDS. 5 

an accident that I heard that speech, i still thank God 
that I was there. There are l)ut few left today that 
heard that great speech. It is the loss of Georgia 
and the Nation that we have no record of that speech. 
The great battle of Seven Pines was fought May 
31st, 1862. There Colonel Bull was killed, leading his 
regiment. A braver man never lived. One of the 
best drilled officers in the Army of Northern Virginia, 
it seemed his whole makeup was one of the greatest 
military talents. General Joe Johnston on general 
review' at Fredericksburg, Va., in March, '62, offered 
a new dress uniform to the best drilled regiment. 
The Thirty-fifth Georgia, Colonel Bull's regiment (and 
mine), won that suit. Colonel Bull was a very strict 
disciplinarian. He loved his command and we loved 
Colonel Bull. Though very strict while on duty, you 
certainly loved the man when off duty. He always 
cared for his men, to see that they received justice, 
and you, my comrades, know that was lacking in a 
great many of our officers. 

My friends, you may read casually, but I hope the 
people of his native town, LaGrange, will think in 
a patriotic way. I would place a monument to the 
memory of our great hero. He was killed on the bat- 
tlefield for the great principle of justice, the greatest 
thing for which he could live and die. 
Colonel Gus Bull, Lawyer, Statesman and General. 

Colonel Bull was one of our best lawyers and one 
of the greatest military geniuses of the Civil War. 
I have never seen or heard his equal as an orator. 
He had a great knowledge of military affairs, and in 
the command of an army he had but few equals. 

I must admit that I am not the man to do justice to 
liis honor and integrity, as my command of language 
is not sufficient to express what I think is due him. 

It seems that after forty-five years have passed, I 
would know his eloquent voice commanding his regi- 
ment. To know his ability as the leader of an army 
was to admire his military ability. 

Though his rank was Colonel at the time he was 
killed in the earlv part of '62, had he lived he would 



6 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

undoubtedly have been numbered among the great 
generals of the Confederacy. 

During the war I was present several times in Rich- 
mond and heard his name mentioned in the most 
complimentary manner. His mind was quick and 
his conceptions broad. You may speak of Hill, Long- 
street, Stewart, Gordon and other generals; if he 
had lived to show his ability his name would have 
been placed in the Hall of Fame. The State of Geor- 
gia would have been greatly honored as the home of 
one of the greatest men in the Confederate Army. 

I felt proud of Colonel Bull. I claimed to be a proud 
soldier myself. You don't know how I felt when I 
heard Colonel Bull's name mentioned in a compliment- 
ary way ; I felt honored myself, although I was a pri- 
vate soldier, because I was a member of his regiment. 

My comrades, I have never felt embarrassed going 
to my rank, although I held my rank as a high private 
from '6i to '65 ; and I am proud of it. Today, when 
General Evans is honored, I feel honored, for my rank 
comes next always. 

Colonel Bull was buried in the forest alone, with- 
out the military honors that were due him. He fell 
together with his comrades. 

We were in a dangerous position and remained 
longer than we should. We were in a very thick for- 
est. Finally overwhelming numbers compelled us to 
give way, just as Colonel Bull predicted before enter- 
ing the battle. He said it was a bad move, and hesi- 
tated before advancing, but he advanced to his death. 
I knew a great many of our private soldiers could 
maneuver an army more successfully than some of the 
leaders. Lack of judgment by the men in power 
caused many of our poor boys to lose their lives. 

I hope the good people of LaGrange will become 
so much interested in Colonel G. A. Bull, of the Thirty- 
fifth Georgia Regiment, who was killed and is buried 
with the unknown in the forests at Seven Pines, that 
they will erect a monument to his memory on the 
streets of LaGrange. Judge F. M. Longley, Mr. C. D. 
Hudson, Dr. T. S. Bradfield, Judge J. B. Strong and 
others sav thev indorse the movement. 



BOOK ONE. 



A Six Months' Siege — A Vidette Post and a Capture — 
On Duty at a Farm House and a Strange and 
Beautiful Love Which Grew From It — An Affect- 
ing Farewell, and Back to Arms. 



A Dramatic Moment Near the Close. 

On July 15, 1864, our army crossed the James 
river parallel to the enemy. They were in sight of 
our great pontoon bridge. Both armies marched par- 
allel to Petersburg. The great line of battle was 
formed by General Lee in front of Petersburg. Gen- 
eral Grant's army was fronting General Lee's, being 
nearly twenty miles long. General Lee was compelled 
to lengthen out his lines on the right until it was 
merely a deploy skirmish line. After General Lee 
and General Grant maneuvered their lines to the best 
advantage, General Grant decided that he would move 
up just a short distance, in our front. General Lee 
moved up about the same distance, but General Grant 
saw there was a better position about one hundred 
yards further in front. General Lee was aware of 
the strategical value of that position. Both generals 
decided on the same night to move to the better po- 
sition, neither knowing that the other was going to 
move. General Grant, about dark, moved up very 
quietly to the desired position. General Lee gave or- 
ders to move up about nine o'clock the same night. 
General Grant's army moved up about one hundred 
yards along the line before General Lee knew that 
General Grant was expecting to move. General Lee 
decided on a plan by which to move him back. He 
gave command for all the commands to move up their 
skirmishers ten paces in front of the line of battle. 
At eleven o'clock he gave orders to charge the enemy 

(7) 



8 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

out of that position with the skirmish Hne. We were 
ordered not to speak louder than a whisper. Grant's 
army was peacefully sleeping. The word was given. 
The distance was about three hundred yards. We 
crept up close by and sprang forward with a yell. 
You never saw blankets fly as they did there. We 
won the fight, the position was ours. They left over 
half of their arms. I don't think there were over 
half a dozen killed. A^"e were ordered to entrench at 
once. By daybreak we had splendid works. 

General Lee was expecting an assault, and about 
sunup the yankees charged. We were behind good 
works. They came within seventy-five yards before 
we fired ; we fired, gave a yell at the same time, mount- 
ing the breastworks and drove them beyond the point 
from which they started. We returned to our position. 
They were mad through and through. The next night 
they began firing on our lines. Of course we returned 
the fire. Both sides kept up that regular firing for 
over six months. Both sides began to entrench, and 
the whole county was soon subsoiled. The rifle balls 
were piled up everywhere. We were underground. 

My friends, just think for a minute! After march- 
ing for four long years, half fed, half clad, without 
money, over half of our brave boys killed or disabled, 
fighting, marching night and day, in the great valleys 
of Virginia, our homes in most all directions in pos- 
session of the enemy, our cities destroyed, our farms 
all gone to rack and ruin, fencing all down, and with 
the bridges, mills, factories and machinery all burned; 
our stock, hogs and sheep, and nearly everything 
else, destroyed ; our ports closed and in many in- 
stances destroyed; it did seem to us that the nations 
of the world were turned against us ; we had the 
worst to fight ; we could rarely hear from our loved 
ones ; it seemed there was nothing to do but fall in 
the charge. 

My comrades, you know the dark days lasted long. 
It was beyond conception how we spent our young 
lives in the terrible trenches and forts at Petersburg, 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 9 

as well as all during the war. Wc k-fl <»ur homes luilf 
educated. Our future was dark. 

There was never an army that deserved more honor ; 
greater patriotism was never shown ; greater general- 
ship w^as never recorded. 

But what did we do? We stood there and held that 
position until we received orders from General Lee 
to evacuate. Therefore we were not driven away, but 
left the city of Petersburg quietly and in good order. 

But before the city was evacuated the great blowup 
occurred. I was sitting down, after being relieved 
from guard duty, eating a morsel of bread and drink- 
ing a glass of water. Without any warning, the earth, 
rails and everything seemed to fly upwards, accom- 
panied with a terrific roar or explosion. It missed 
our line about ten feet. The intention was to tunnel 
right under our lines, twelve hundred yards ; they 
missed it about ten feet. As it was, they killed a gocd 
manv of our boys. I saw our men give back; then 
the negroes charged. They took the lines for about 
live hundred yards, but did not hold it thirty minutes. 
We charged and killed every negro in the ditch. We 
certainly Riled that crater wnth dead negroes. White 
soldiers charged the next time, and they were treated 
the same way. 

Cold weather was now felt, \\'e began to prepare 
a little for winter. A portion of us had moved back 
a short distance into winter quarters. Now, about 
January i, 1865, we began to clear and brush up the 
broken places. Now and then the boys would dodge 
a shell. No one knew when we would break camp, 
though we thought we would remain there until the 
winter broke. About this time we had very pretty 
weather, and we began to look for some move on the 
part of the enemy. How we did dread the conse- 
quences. Our armv was reduced considerably ; many 
had been killed and wounded ; a great many sick, due 
to long marches and great exposure. 
A Close Call. 

One day we were standing close by the Colonel's 
tent. I was very well acquainted with the Colonel. 



10 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

A courier came up to the tent at full speed. He car- 
ried an order from Lt. Gen. A. T. Hill. We all ex- 
pected to move at once. But he wanted just one man 
to go away out on the left to a vidette post, some 
three miles away. 

''General Hill desires a man that knows all about 
the movements of an army, and one that will hold 
that post, if possible. One that will keep wide awake," 
said the Colonel. 

He just turned to me and said: "Here is the boy, 
right here," with a smile. I said to myself, 'Xord, 
help me!" and to the Colonel, ''Where will I report?" 

"Just follow this man." That was the courier that 
brought the order. General Hill's quarters were four 
miles away. To the courier I said, "Move your sad- 
dle up just a little, your honor; I will ride in the rear, 
if you will permit." 

'""Certainly." 

I said to the Colonel, "Do not report where I go, 
only to the Captain." We were soon in General Hill's 
headquarters. I said to the courier, "Look here, 
where do I go? I would like to know." 

"I can't tell you, no one knows but General Hill. 
He has one man beside you." 

General Hill came out very soon. I gave him the 
military salute. He said, "Well, boys, I am going 
to send you on a very particular post, five miles away. 
I will give you your instructions. I have been look- 
ing for the enemy to move down on the Weldon rail- 
road. I have been watching very closely. They ex- 
pect to cut that road to stop our supplies. Now, gen- 
tlemen, look and listen for the enemy. You know 
what kind of noise an army makes preparing to move. 
Now, think what great responsibility is upon you. It 
may be that judgment and close observance on your 
part will save the army a great victory. Now, I will 
be expecting to hear something before day. If you 
think the enemy is moving, report to me at once. 
Pay no attention to any one. There will be no danger 
on your part, if you will keep your eyes open. Your 
post will be close to the enemy." 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 11 

He ordered a courier to point out our post. General 
Hill took our names. We passed on. 

Just before we arrived at our destination we struck 
a very wide, muddy swamp, one hundred and fifty 
yards wide, and very marshy. Sometimes in goinii^ 
over this we would miss a tuft of grass and down we 
would go, nearly knee-deep. We could hardly see 
our way. Neither of us said a word. After awhile 
we landed on the other side. 

"Here is your post, Mr. Edwards, by this pine. I 
advise you to stand close by that post and listen and 
keep a lookout and do as you were ordered," said tlie 
courier. 

I said I would be governed by circumstances. 1 le 
said, "Good night, Mr. Edwards; I wish you success." 
The other fellow went a mile further on. 

Do you have any idea of how I felt? That pine 
seemed to be the tallest tree I ever saw, about a hun- 
dred feet to the first limb. I did as I was ordered, 
and stood very, very close to that pine. I could see 
a flash of lightning occasionally, and it was misting 
rain a little, just enough to make it very lonely ; 
my feelings were such that I can not describe them. 
No one near. The man with whom I came was a 
mile away, and the enemy within about one hundred 
and fifty yards of my post, but I can't say that the 
enemy was any consolation to me. I stood there 
listening, thinking. I could not tell you all I thought, 
only my thoughts Avere such that my hair seemed to 
stand straight up. 

About nine o'clock I heard the artillery and wagon 
trains of the enemy moving and also heard the com- 
mand, "Fall in," given by the officers of the op]:)ns- 
ing army. 

About that time I heard a rustle in the leaves just 
in front of me, about ten steps away. I did not look. 
I simply stood and listened. The undergrowth was 
oak and hickory, very thick. I will say this much, I 
don't think my breathing was ever so short. It seemed 
that I could "swallow my throat." That something 
kept moving towards me. It mo\ed something like 



12 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

a hog- in the leaves. It moved to my right and then 
to my left, just a little closer every time. I began to 
think. I decided to risk one eye anyway. My face 
was very close to the pine and my hat ofif. I looked 
very close to my right and saw a bulk of something 
about five paces from the pine. That was mv pine 
yet. I was satisfied that that something- was a yankee. 
But I could not tell what he wanted to do; but I had 
it fixed in my mind what I was to do. I heard him 
make about three steps towards my pine. He came 
to a standstill as though he thought, "Nobody here." 
I was very close to that pine, indeed. I thought, 
"Now was the time to act." A great deal depended 
on that first move. If I fired and killed him, the 
enemy would hear and come at once. I made ready. 
He was about two paces from the pine. I jumped 
right in his front ; I had the drop. I said, "Surrender." 
He jumped and threw down his gun, and said, "Yes,, 
yes, yes ! I will ! I will ! Don't shoot !" I said, 
"Step here to me." He came right up. I said, "Throw 
down your other weapons — your knife and evervthing 
that will kill." He said, "My friend—" I said, "You 
are not my friend, and don't call me your friend." 

"I did not slip up with the intention of killing you ; 
I intended to capture you," he said. "We get a forty 
days' furlough when we capture a Johnnie. My 
brother captured a man from this post last night, and 
he went home today." "Yes, indeed, I will give you 
a greater furlough than that," I remarked. 

We talked about ten minutes. I then asked him, 
"Is your command moving?" and he answered. "Yes, 
sir; about nine o'clock they began to move on the 
Weldon road. Grant will tear up that road tomor- 
row." 

I said, "He will never get there ; * * =f^ Well, we will 
pass to the rear, Johnson, move up." (His name was 
Johnson.) I gave him my name and address. 

I was then getting in a hurrv to get to the camp 
of General Hill. 

We plunged through that swamp in a hurry ; and 
just as we struck the other side, we came up with 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 13 

three of our men. and they lialted us and reciuested 
the countersis^n. I step])ed up, and with a l)ayonet 
pointini;- to my breast, whispered, "Richmond." 
That was the countersij^n tliat ni^ht. He said, "Who 
is that you have there?" I said, "1 can't tell you," 
and told Johnson to go ahead. The man called, "Hold 
on there." I said I hadn't the time ; that I was on 
special l)usiness. He said, "You have a prisoner. Just 
turn him over to me." I said, 'T captured this man, 
and 1 am going to carry him to General Hill, at the 
risk of my life." He said, "I am a commissioned 
ofificer. If you don't surrender that man you will be 
punished." "I am not particularly interested in your 
stripes, but about your command — this prisoner is 
mine." 

He said, "I wall shoot you on the spot." 

I said, ''Go ahead, Johnson." He said, "I will report 
you before day." I said, ''All right, 1 will see you 
later. Go on, Johnson." 

He w^ent on, and we passed and left them. 

I struck up with a cavalry camp, two miles from 
there. We were met with the command, "Halt! AMio 
comes there?" 

"Friend," I answered ; "is this the direction to Gen- 
eral Hill's headquarters, if you please?" 

"Just go around out there and you will strike the 
road that leads to his quarters." 

After we struck the road we halted a few minutes ; 
my prisoner seemed to be much relieved. He was 
apparently about tw^enty years of age, handsome and 
ver}^ intelligent. He said, "I like your style as a sol- 
dier very much." He seemed very much attached to 
me. "I like the way you disposed of that officer; you 
did right. You have been in the service some time?" 
"Yes, ever since the war began." 

"I see you are not very easily bluft'ed." I said, "He 
had no right to you. General Hill said pay no atten- 
tion to any one ; I went to that pine with the intention 
of holding that pine, at any cost." 

I know I was in a close place and I thought he was 
making his way up to get an opportunity to slioot 



14 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

me on the post; I knew they were close by and might 
have heard me when I took my stand. But, I did right 
all the way through. 

That officer and those two men were just traveling 
around to see what they could find. I was always 
ready to obey my officers ; I knew he was not on duty 
of any kind. He just thought if he could get posses- 
sion of that prisoner, he would get all the information 
and carry it up and get the name of a hero ; if there 
was anv honor he would be the man. I had authority, 
and I made use of all I had. I had General Hill be- 
hind me, and that was sufficient. 

We passed on, and found General Hill's quarters 
about two and a half miles away. Just before we 
arrived at his quarters some one said, ''Halt ! Who 
comes there?" "Friends. I desire to see General Hill 
on particular matters." "You can't see him now ; he 
is asleep." "I have a prisoner here, captured on post 
in front." "Well, just turn him over to me. I will 
take charge of him." 

"No one can get this prisoner. I am going to Gen- 
eral Hill's tent. Go on, Johnson." "Hold on there." 

I made no reply; I had no time to lose with that 
fellow. 

"We will have you arrested." 

I made no reply, but went right to General Hill's 
tent. I met his aide at the door. "What is your busi- 
ness, sir? AVhat is your name?" "My name is Ed- 
wards." 

General Hill jumped to the door. "Yes, sir, this is 
my man," he exclaimed. "Edwards, tell me what you 
know. Who is this you have here?" "I captured this 
man on post." 

"I tell you, your act is worth something; tell me; 
come right in, you and your prisoner; take that seat, 
Edwards." Then he handed my prisoner one. 

I said, "General Hill, I think I have the desired in- 
formation, all right. The enemy is moving; took up 
the line of march about 1 1 130 o'clock. This man will 
give you all the information you desire." 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. l'^ 

"All rii^ht, tell me the movements oi your army. 
No one will know what you say to me." 

The prisoner said : "General Hancock's corps be.^an 
to break camp about eight o'clock tonight. He will 
move down on the Weldon road. He intends to tear 
up that, and thus stop your supplies." General Hill 
said, "Yes, yes. I will meet him just before he gets 
there. Captain, get in motion just as quick as possi- 
ble. Get around to all the commands at once; it's 
one o'clock now ; I want my corps to meet the enemy 
before day." 

After he gave orders to his staff he turned to me_ and 

said: 

"Edwards, this information is very important indeed. 
Mr Edwards, tell me of your encounter with the 
prisoner." I said, "General, I did all I could to carry 
out your instructions. I took possession of that pine, 
and 'I held it." He smiled. "I w^as standing very 
close to the pine ; I was listening and looking. I heard 
this man rustling the leaves ; he went to the right and 
to the left, a little nearer each time ; I looked and saw 
the bulk. I was thinking wdiat course to pursue. He 
came very close and stopped, as though there was 
nobody near. I jumped in front of him, got the drop 
on him and said, surrender. He jumped very high 
and gave up." 

General Hill and the prisoner both laughed. 

Then I told him about the close calls I had on my 
way to his tent. 

He said, "I must commend you for your good judg- 
ment in the course you pursued. Many another 
would have left his post or suffered capture. Your 
course with that officer should be published for the 
good of the others. Most of them would have obeyed 
the officer and given up the prisoner. Now, I will tell 
you something else. I have placed four men on that 
post. I feel proud to say that you have been the suc- 
cessful man. All four of the others were either cap- 
tured or killed. Now, I am going to do something 
for you. If I could, I would give you a furlough ; but 
you know that can't be done at this time. If you will 



16 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

hold up a while I will get for you a furlough home. 
I think you have earned it. 

"There was an old citizen here this morning that 
desired a quiet, sober young soldier to come and look 
after his home. He said the soldiers were bothering 
him very much. He wanted some one to come there 
and board with him. It's a good place, about eight 
miles from here. I will give you a permit until Gen- 
eral Lee moves his entire army from Petersburg, I 
pass that way some time, and I will pay my compli- 
ments to you there and thank you for the information 
you have given us." 

I said I would gladly go, and thanked him. 

General Hill moved his corps to the Weldon road. 
Just as he formed his line, the yankees charged on the 
road, and were badly defeated. General Hill's corps 
was the only one in the battle. 

Well, it seemed that I had had a bad time. Fortu- 
nately I drew a new uniform the next day after I left 
General Hill's quarters. I hardly knew what to do, 
my clothing was very much soiled, and I hesitated at 
going anywhere but to the front. I went out to Peters- 
burg, got a hair cut, came back and then started to my 
new home. 

I did not know any one there, never heard anything 
about the people, except what General Hill told me, 
that they were fine people. I am afraid that I was 
somewhat bashful. About four o'clock in the after- 
noon I was close by my new home. I had been in 
the army four years and knew very little about the 
ways of society, and was more or less nervous around 
young ladies. I only hoped the people where I was 
going had a small family. I took my time as I neared 
the house. I heard somebody coming down the road, 
and I jumped to one side; they never turned their 
heads, and I was still giving back when I discovered 
that I was out in the woods and they were gone. 

No one can tell how I felt going up to that old gen- 
tleman's home. I was young, and in a strange coun- 
try. I confess to some trembling and cjuaking of my 
limbs. Mv breath came shorter the nearer I came 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. IT 

to that place, and I felt a weakening that I could 
not account for. I thought, "I wish T knew whether 
he has a daughter or not. I wonder how many. I 
don't know what time they have supper. Maybe I 
had better move up." 1 walked up to the gate and 
said, "Hello!" 

A young lady came to the door. I raised my hat 
politely, and asked if the gentleman of the house was 
present. "Yes, sir ; come right in." 

She turned and walked right back through the great 
hall. The house was a very fine two-story brick 
building, a typical old Southern mansion. 

Presently the old gentleman came out, and I in- 
troduced myself. He asked me to come in. I told 
him that I wished to get a little information from 
him, and asked him to come down to the gate. We 
sat down on a small seat just outside the gate. I 
asked him if he was the gentleman that called to see 
General Hill and asked for protection for his home; 
that wanted some voung soldier to come here and stay 
and look after his 'interests. I suggested that I might 
not please him. He said, "Well, I like your appear- 
ance. You are the man I want." I thanked him and 
asked him what it was he desired me to look after. 

He said, "Mr. Edwards, you know that a great 
many soldiers will take chickens, hogs, sheep and 
such as that, which is very provoking. I learned that 
if I could get one soldier to stay nearby and let them 
know that I had protection that they would not come 
around and bother me." I said, "I wnll protect you 
and your family the very best I can; and if I fail to 
pleas'e you, don't hesitate to dismiss me at once." 

"I don't think I will do that, as I think you are the 
one I want. I will board you, furnish you a bed-room." 

I told him that I preferred to stay outside; I had 
a nice little fly tent that I always used, if he would 
furnish me a little straw. 

"No, I don't want you to do that ; I much rather you 
would occupy a good room, but I have a very good 
and comfortable little house out here, a room about 
fifteen feet square." 

2 ED 



18 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

I told him that I appreciated his kindness in otter- 
ing me a room, but I was just from the front, and my 
clothing was soiled. He nad the little room arranged 
and I moved in. 

He said that he would have one of the servants to 
brins: my meals. I thanked him, and remarked, "I will 
kill anything that interrupts your holdings here." 

He replied, "No, I don't w^ant you to kill." 

"Well, I will make them think so." He then said 
diat he would ha\ e wood carried to the room for me 
as I needed it. 

All that I have said above actually occurred. I re- 
member just as well as if it were yesterday. 

Let me tell you about those girls, as they come 
into my mind. I had never felt like I felt then. The 
old gentleman said there was in the family his wife, 
and tw^o daughters about my age. We had very fine 
weather from the time I captured that "yank" up to 
that time. I don't think you can hardly realize how I 
felt when I went in that house, so nicely furnished, 
and the old gentleman was so kind. It was something 
I hadn't been accustomed to in a long time. It seems 
to me — and I have thought over this a great many 
times — that it surely must have been providential ; 
from the time I left camp to go to the vidette post and 
went all the rounds that I did, and to wnnd up at this 
old gentleman's home — a perfect paradise to me, it was 
wonderful. I felt greatly relieved. I tell you polite- 
ness and appreciation controls the world. I never 
thought General Hill w^ould have treated me with as 
much politeness as he did. I have always thought 
since, if he hadn't been killed shortly after the above 
occurrence he had something else for me, because he 
indicated that he did ; though I felt very thankful in- 
deed that he sent me to this old gentleman's home, 
where I was treated so nicely. During the two 
months' stay or over, I was not on duty, out from the 
front, away from all exposure and danger. 

While I write it brings most everything fresh to 
my mind. Sometimes I find it hard to control my 
emotions when I think of so many of our best boys 



ARMY ]AFK OF P^RAXK KDWAIIDS. 19 

1\ ini; in the dust around Petersburg;' and the heights 
uf X'irginia. A few of us are left ; for some good mo- 
tive, I hope. 

"W^ell," the old gentleman a little later said, "just 
make yourself at home ; supper is now ready." I 
stepped in my cabin, and saw that Aunt Sallie, the 
cook, had supper on the table, and that it was very 
nicely arranged. I ate very heartily, indeed. 

After supper, the old gentleman came out, and asked 
if I was all right. I told him I was, and had enjoyed 
my supper very much. We sat and talked about the 
war a long while. I saw he liked the Georgia sol- 
diers very much. 

He remarked, "T don't think the war will last very 
long; our army seems to be decreasing and the other 
increasing. General Lee can't stand very long. Well, 
as you seem tired and worried, I will be going. I 
want you to come up and meet all my family ; they 
would be very glad to have you come up and tell them 
something of your war experience." "All right," I 
said ; but I had not the least idea of going, my inten- 
tion being to stay right around close to my quarters. 

I slept fine that night. Early the next morning the 
cook came down. She said she didn't know what 
time I ate breakfast, and I told her just whenever she 
got ready. I made arrangements with the old negro 
to take my clothes and l)lanket out and launder them, 
and told her I would pay her for all she did for me 
She said she would come for them Ihe next morning. 

"Mr. Edwards, we have a good old 'Marster' and 
'Mistress.' He is a good old man, and I tell you he 
has two good 'gals,' sho' as you're born. You go 
up and see 'em." 

"I will see about that later," I said. The old negro 
l)ointed out the pump, right at the dining room. I 
took my gun and walked around. I came back and 
Aunt Sallie arranged the breakfast on the table. I 
tell you that breakfast was fine, and that coffee — it 
tasted better and better. She gave me a bucket and 
towels and soap. You don't know how glad I was to 
get that soap. I took the bucket after breakfast and 



20 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

went down to the pump. I thought I heard some one 
moving around in the dining room, and caught a 
glimpse of some one at the window. I picked up my 
bucket and made my way back to my quarters. Aunt 
Sallie came out to get the dishes. 

"Mr. Edwards, what you come 'way so quick for? 
I told them 'gals' all 'bout you; what a fine looking 
fellow you was." 

I replied, "I thought I heard some one in the dining 
room." 

"Yes, yes, they was right in the dining room to get 
a peep at you while at the pump ; they wanted to see 
you." 

The old gentleman came out and inquired after my 
welfare. I told him I was perfectly delighted with my 
new home and surroundings. He insisted that I 
should go to the house and meet his family, but I 
excused myself that time. He then asked me to walk 
around with him. I reached back to get my gun. 
"Oh, you don't need that." 

I said, "I just want to advertise that you have pro- 
tection here." 

We then walked down to the l^arn, and I saw his 
stock. He had tine horses and fine cattle. We went 
around to his sheep lot, where he had a line lot of 
sheep and goats. He said the army had forced him 
to give up a great many sheep, goats and some horses 
and beef cattle. 

"That is why I wanted you for protection; just let 
them know you are here." 

He had a fine plantation and, besides, had some good 
property in Richmond. He had three children, two 
daughters, and one son who was killed at Manassas. 

"Mr. Edwards, I have good sport sometimes. There 
is a large lake about a mile from here, and I some- 
times bait that place for ducks, and have killed as 
manv as two hundred. We will go out tomorrow and 
bait." 

I said all right, I would like that very much ; much 
better than shooting at yankees. 

I liked the old gentleman. 



ARMY LIFK OF FRANK FDWARDS. 21 

As \vc were lookini;' around, I cniild see those two 
skirls lookin^^-, I su|)])()se just to see what kind of a 
tramp they had there. I apparently never noticed 
them at all. I i)assed on to my quarters, and he 
started towards the house. He did not go very far 
before he came back and said, "Well, Edwards, I never 
thought I would be as well pleased with any one as I 
am with you." 

I thanked him and said, "So far as I am concerned, 
I can't tell you how I have felt since I have been here, 
and I don't think T could better myself — this side of 
Georgia." 

Soon his wife came around, and I was introduced 
to her. "Well, Mr. Edwards, my husband speaks so 
well of you I thought I would come around and meet 
you. We want you to come up to the house ; we have 
a good room there ; nothing whatever will interrupt 
you there." 

I thanked her, but would not accept at that time. 

"The girls w^ere opposed to having any one coming 
in the house," she said. "If you w^ere an ofificer, they 
would have been perfectly willing for you to occupy 
that room, because they have a better opportunity to 
keep it nice. But I am going to tell them you are 
so nice and a real good looking fellow. T had rather 
you would occupy my room than anv man I have seen 
yet." 

I thanked her again for her expression of confidence. 
"Tell your daughters that I am not an officer, and 
that I am well pleased with this little house." 

"Now, Mr. Edwards, maybe I should not have said 
anything about that ; that all passed before you came." 

"Well, some of our boys are very bad, indeed, and 
don't take any care of themselves, but they are ex- 
cusable. I was thinking they were opposed to me 
because I was a private soldier. I have never been 
associated with girls a great deal, for I left home 
quite young." She left my little cabin still insisting 
on my coming up to the house. 

Aunt Sallie came around with the dinner, and I 
w^ent down to the pump to get water, and, while there, 



22 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 



Aunt Sallie ran around and said to the girls that I 
had gone to the pump. I went around to the stove 
room and pumped and pumped, but got no water. 
I decided I would not go to the other one. About 
that time here came Aunt Sallie. 

"Can't get no water? I expect those girls have been 
here and stopped the pump. Hush, they are in the 
dining room right now." 

''All rieht, let them look." She went back in the 
house. 

Aunt Sallie came with the supper that night, and 
had much to tell me. "The girls were right at you ; 
right at the window and saw you." says she. 

I said, ''Did they say anything good?" 

"Well, I don't know whether to tell you or not ; they 
told me not to tell anything. Well, if you won't tell 
nobody, I will keep you posted." 

"All right, what did they say?" 

"The oldest likes your looks splendid. They want 
you to come in ; they are anxious for you to go in the 
house. I tell you, Mr. Edwards, they are both good 
girls, but I like the youngest best ; you will, too. Now, 
let me tell you, I want you to see the youngest. When 
you go to the pump again let me know." 

"All right." 

I had never seen the youngest. 

"I will tell her you are going to the pump," she said. 

I rested well that night. Bright and early Aunt 
Sallie came in with the breakfast, and I said, "I am 
going to the pump, Aunt Sallie." 

"Hold on, I want to see Miss Emma first." She 
met Miss Emma at the door. "He's at the pump." 

She went to the dining room and looked through 
the window. As she looked I looked toward the win- 
dow and our eyes met. Both turned away. Then, I 
loved her. I can't tell you how I felt toward her. 
I have never felt that way since toward any one. It 
seemed to me that I had met a good friend. I went 
back to my quarters. Aunt Sallie came out. 

"Did you see Miss Emma?" 

"No, I never looked." 



ARMY \AVK OF FRANK KDWARDS. 23 

"I l)Ct she saw }(»u. ' I drank a cu]i of coffee. Tlie 
old i^entlcman came out in tlie yard and said he was 
ready to ^o out and l)ait the place on the lake for the 
ducks. We fixed everything' so as to he ready for 
the next mornini;'. Xext niornini^ we went out \ery 
early. His duck i;un, as he called it. was about eight 
feet long. It looked very much like he expected to 
kill all he wanted at one shot. We got behind the 
blind and the old gentleman placed his gun on the rack. 
"Now, 1 will show you how to kill ducks," he said, as 
he adjusted his gun to the spot we had baited. "Xow, 
when they begin to come down they will cover the 
baited spot just as thick as they possibly can get to- 
gether." About day they began to come in all around. 
The air was almost dark with them. Tlie old gentle- 
man began to get ready to shoot. It seemed to me 
then that one hundred thousand would have been a 
small estimate of the ducks there. "Look out, I am 
going to shoot," he warned, and stepped up and 
snatched a small twine string. The gun sounded like 
the enemy was in our rear. A negro boy went out in 
a boat and brought in about eighty or ninety large 
ducks. Ducks kept on falling in every direction. I 
enjoyed that sport. He had them dressed and sent 
out to market. 

I could not help thinking about myself — where I 
was ; the life was so altogether different to what I 
had been accustomed to ; I thought about the girls 
back at the house ; I thought of the front. The old 
gentleman broke into my reverie by saying, "This 
is the way to get them." 

"Yes, sir; great sport, indeed." 

I will never forget the result of that shot. 

After we returned to the house the old gentleman's 
wife came out to my quarters, just as I was finishing 
breakfast. 

"W^ell, Mr. Edwards, what do you think of the way 
the old man kills ducks?" 

''I began to think the yankees were in our rear. I 
never saw anything like it." She laughed. 

"I would like to live in this sport." 



24 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

''Well, the war will soon be over." 

"I was told that four years ago, and the war is still 
raging." 

"Well, I hope you will never be compelled to fire 
at the yankees again." 

About that time the old gentleman came up. ''I was 
very glad Mr. Edwards went out with me this morn- 
ing; he seemed to enjoy the sport." I replied that I 
never saw anything to equal it. 

"We will prepare one tomorrow for dinner, and we 
will expect you to come up and meet the girls and 
take dinner," was the invitation from the kind old lady. 

"You don't know how I appreciate your kind hos- 
pitality, and I will come up and take dinner with you 
tomorrow. You expect no one else?" 

"No one else, Mr. Kdwards ; no one but you and 
my family." 

"I sometimes suffer from an embarrassment that is 
peculiar to myself. I have always been diffident in 
my nature, and I hope you all will take that into con- 
sideration, for, as you say, an officer has a better op- 
portunity to dress himself." 

"I regret very much making that statement to you 
about what the girls said. Please do not mention to 
the girls what I said in regard to the officers." I as- 
sured her I would not. Still I felt some embarrass- 
ment, for I had not used a knife and fork in about four 
years ; used by fingers, and drank the hottest cofifee 
out of a tin cup. It looked like to me it would stay 
hot some time from one meal to the next. 

I began to think how I would get ready for tomor- 
row. Aunt Sallie brought in my supper. I said, "You 
all just cook and eat; it comes around a great deal 
more frequent than I am accustomed to." She offered 
to go down to the pump and get water. 

"No, I will go; I want to learn how to use that 
pump." 

I ate supper, got my gun and walked around about 
the barn. I looked around and saw Miss Emma sit- 
ting in the window upstairs. The moon was shining 
bright. I raised my hat. She waved both hands to 



ARMY \AFK OF FRANK FDWARDS. 25 

mo. vcrv Iricndlv. 1 Icll v..ii. 1im\v 1 fell is surely l)c- 
vond me to explain. She moved away and 1 passed 
on 1 afterwards learned the family was at supi)er 
when I passed, and Aunt Sallie told Miss Emma that 
I was passini^ the gate and she ran ui)stairs. 

Wliilc walking- along I saw a sheep with its heacl 
fastened in the fence, and released it. 1 walked around 
a little ways and started back t<. my quarters, but 
came very near losing the way back, 1 was so elated. 
I had never met Miss Emma; had only seen her at 
the dining room window ; had never said one wT)rd to 
her nor she to me; but what a lasting impression she 
made on me. The passion of love had never been 
aroused in mv breast before. Then and there I would 
have given my life for that girl, although I had never 
uttere^l one word to her. When I caught her eye at 
that window, I will never have command cf language 
sufficient to tell what I felt, while standing at the 
pump, and she was standing at the window, about six 
or eight paces away ; and the second time I saw her 
was upstairs in the window. 

The day I must go up and meet all the family and 
partake of their hospitality perturbed me. I looked 
around and found a "fried" shirt, and next morning 
I fixed up the best I could. One little thing flustered 
me a little that morning. About three times before 
this I had seen an officer ride up, hitch his horse and 
^o right in. Aunt Sallie laughed and said, "That s 
Miss in^mma's best fellow. He has been coming here 
about three months." T saw the old gentleman coming 
dowm the walk. 

'•Now, Mr. Edwards, dinner is about ready." \\ e 
went right in— that much dreaded place. 

Somebodv mav want to know how I felt. If one 
had been cmtdom's they could have heard my heart 
beating; at least, that is the way I felt. 

I met his oldest daughter. The host wanted to know\ 
"Where is Emma?" , , •, ^ 

His wife replied, ''She will be in alter awdule. 
"Well, Miss Lou, I am more than glad to meet you. 



26 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

I have felt a little delicacy in coming to the house ; 
the greatest reason, I must admit, being that it has 
been so long since I was in ladies' company, and I 
felt somewhat embarrassed. As soon as I came in, 
I was all right." 

The old gentleman and his lady were very much 
elated over the result. I proved by the old people that 
Miss Lou was the most excited. I considered that I 
came out all right. 

Miss Lou says, "\\>11, Mr. Edwards, let me tell 
you the truth of the matter : Papa and mamma both 
said you were so backward, I looked for you to almost 
give away when you came in, though I find that I 
am pleasantly disappointed." \\> all laughed. 

I was a little worried that Miss Emma did not make 
her appearance, though I thought I understood that. 
A\> went in to dinner. I presume the old man thought 
he would give me a fair test, so he said, "Mr. Edwards, 
give thanks, will you?" 

I was not expecting this. I will tell you what I said : 
''Lord, we thank Thee for this day and for this dinner, 
for Christ's sake." 

I did not hesitate ; I said what I had to say at once. 
I told them that my mother nearly always called on 
me to give thanks. It had been a number of years 
since I sat at such a w^ell supplied table ; there were 
so many different things. Still Miss Emma had not 
yet made her appearance. I remarked to them that 
if 1 should lay down my knife and fork and go on with 
my finpers, they need not be surprised. At this they 
laughed, very heartily. After the dinner was served, 
and especially those two big fat ducks, I felt consid- 
erably relieved. 

Miss Lou invited me in the parlor, and I thought it 
was the finest furnished room that I had had the pleas- 
ure of seeing in many days. She asked me if I liked 
music, and when I told her I did, she took a seat at 
the piano and began to play and sing. It was certainly 
fine music, as fine as I ever heard, and she had a 
splendid voice. I was sitting close by the door to the 
next room, and the door was standing slightly ajar. I 



ARMY \AFK OF FRANK KDWARDS. 27 

thoii!L;ht I heard somclxxlN' lau,L;h \cr_\- suIxIikmI two nr 
three times, just like they were tryini;- to keej) from 
laui^hiiii;-. Aliss Lou was playini;- very rapidly, her 
face turned a little from me. No one was in the room 
hut she and 1. Suddenly a winter flower fell in my 
la]). I caught it in my hand and ])Ul it in my coat 
pocket. 1 did not turn my head. 1 said to Miss Lou, 
"That was the finest piece of music I ever heard in 
mv life." But I really never heard a single chord, for 
mv thoughts w^ere on something else. I knew very 
well where that fiower came from. ]\Iiss Lou turned 
and faced me, and said, "You are from Georgia, are 
you not, Mr. Edwards?'' 

"Yes, a grand old state; I love my state and my 
country. I also love the people of Virginia ; they are 
very kind. The army, no doubt, has nearly destroyed 
Virginia." 

"O, yes," she said, "father has lost so much. We 
have forty negroes here, and they will no doubt be 
free. Father said they hadn't destroyed so much other 
property; had not burned up so much." 

I changed the subject at this point. 

■'Miss Lou, I would have been very much pleased to 
have met Miss Emma." 

"Well, you will meet her soon. I think she is look- 
ing for an admirer tonight." 

Just as she said that, some one rang the door bell. 
I thought perhaps he was the one. I bid ]\Iiss Lou 
good evening and went out at the other door. I found 
out I w^as mistaken. Another officer came there to 
visit Miss Lou in the afternoon, about four o'clock. 
But I was glad I left anyway. I went back to my 
quarters, and took the flower from my pocket. I found 
she had wrapped a little note very nicely around it. 
I thought it the prettiest flower I ever looked upon. 
I was more interested in the note than I was in the 
flower, so I opened it and read it. She wrote, "I hope 
you will pardon me ; there was a reason in not meeting 
you, which I hope you will know^ in the future, al- 
though I feel like I have met you, as I was near tlie 
door when vou came in. Bve, bve." 



28 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

I want my readers to know just my life as I have 
written; just what I saw and heard. I can't tell you 
how I felt, though I will tell you as near as I can. I 
experienced some things which words may not express 
in the war. 

My kind old colored informant cheered me up next 
morning when she brought my breakfast by saying 
that the officer admirer of Miss Emma did not have 
his admiration returned in kind. The old woman in- 
sisted that Miss Emma very deeply admired me. I 
dared not believe this, however much I wanted to. 

The old gentleman and his wife called on me early 
next morning, and the old gentleman said, 'TMow, Mr. 
Edwards, we have a proposition to offer you. You 
come along now and eat your meals with us, and you 
can occupy that room I was telling you about ; or, if 
you prefer, you can still remain here at night." 

His wife remarked, "We desire very much to have 
you with us. I believe you have captivated our girls." 

*T am very proud to hear that." I w^as thinking she 
was wrong. "There are so many officers, I will be 
compelled to keep close." I saw they were not pre- 
pared for that remark. 

"Well," he said, "you can come right along and take 
your meals at the house." I told them I would accept 
their proposition, and spend the night here at my 
quarters. 

"I don't know but what that will be best ; some one 
may come around to do mischief and I will be near 
my post." 

"Well," he said, "come to your meals when you 
hear the bell ring." 

When I heard the bell, I went right in. I was ready 
for supper when Miss Lou came out and said, "Well, 
Mr. Edwards, mamma and papa prevailed at last." 

"Yes, I was nearly crazy to come, but I thought T 
would see if they meant what they said." They all 
laughed heartily. 

The old gentleman said, "I think you have fooled me 
completely; you talked as though you were very back- 
ward in every way." 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK KDWARDS. 29 

"I am proud to know that I have fooled you for the 
best." We all seemed cheerful enouL^h at the table. 

I said to Miss Lou, "I feel very much elated. I 
learn from your mother that I have captured both of 
her girls. 1 think I am very apt. indeed, to capture one 
that I have never seen, only at a distance." 

The old man seemed to enjoy the joke very much. 
Miss Lou, raising her eyes from her plate, said, "Well, 
Mr. Edwards, I did say you were the handsomest man 
I had seen from the army." 

"Thank you very much, Miss Lou ; I hope there 
will be an opportunity for me yet, if I can get the high- 
headed officers out of the way." Her mother laughed 
very heartily. After the meal Miss Lou invited me 
in the parlor, and we had some fine music. I felt that 
I was well entertained that afternoon. I felt like I 
had made a very good impression, though I was not 
content, but very much demoralized. I excused myself, 
took my gun and walked out to the lake, the same 
where we killed so many ducks. I came back, but 
could not remain in one place very long. 

That night, supper being over, I came back in the 
hall and reached for my hat, when Miss Lou arose 
and said, "Mr. Edwards, come right in," 

"Thank you, I wall go back." 

She then prevailed on me to stay, and I stayed 
longer than I thought. That officer Came in another 
room. I went out with my gun toward the barn and 
returned to my quarters. I passed by her room ; every- 
thing was closed up ; I stood there about a minute. 
I heard Miss Lou laughing, somcAvhere, and passed 
on. I was satisfied Miss Emma was not in the room, 
and I felt relieved. I also noticed that the officer did 
not tarry very long, i strode around and came 1)ack. 
I had never spent such an awful time as 1 had for the 
last week or two. 

I went to breakfast, and, after eating, came right 
back. Aunt Sallie came down to fix up my room. She 
said, "Mr. Edwards, you go around to the pump." 

I said, "What is the matter with the i)ump? I have 
no business at the pump." 



30 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

Instead, I took my p-un and walked out around be- 
low the house. I was going right along when I heard 
something tap against the window. I discovered it 
was Miss Emma calling to me. 

I had been thinking when I left my quarters that I 
was the worst fooled boy in General Lee's army. Just 
to think I had taken up the crazy idea that the girl 
cared for me. I tell you I was about to "go wild." 
I knew^ as little about what I was doing as I ever did 
before or since in my life. I felt like my heart and 
body were separated. But still, Miss Emma gave me 
great relief when she wrote me and said she would give 
me the reason later why she had not met me. Aunt 
Sallie said she was so much in love with that officer, 
and besides, the first day I went to meet the family 
Miss Lou said she would be out after a short while; 
but she did not come, and I thought I knew what that 
meant. Some poet has said, "He is ready to excuse 
the one he loves." Well, I began to think differently. 
I was suffering mentally ; I could hardly tell wdiere I 
was or where I was going. One thing, I did not care 
to go to the front; just anywhere else would answer. 

Well, I looked around and saw Miss Emma at the 
window. She motioned her head for me to come that 
way, so I turned and strode to the window. She gave 
me her hand and I held to it without saying anything. 
Finally she murmured : ''I feel like I have met you." 

I replied, "I have felt very bad ever since I saw 
you at the dining room window ; I have never had 
such a feeling deep down in my heart as I have had 
for you, and I have felt ever since as though I had 
met you ; still I have been greatly troubled." 

"Now, Mr. Edwards, please pardon me for the seem- 
ing indifference I have shown you." 

"It gives me the highest thought of my life to say 
that I will, because I feel that I know the reason." 

"Do you feel that way?" 

"I do; you don't know what a great relief that little 
note and flower gave me. If I could only say that you 
were mine." 

She answered, "You have mv whole heart and hand. 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 31 

\\'hen I saw you at that window 1 came nearer falling- 
tlian ever l^efore. I saw more in your expression tlian 
I will ever see in another." 

"You have surely given me the greatest happiness 
of my life. 1 will be content as much as possible. I 
would like to talk to you again later." 

"Now, Mr. Edwards, you don't seem a stranger to 
me. One matter I wish to ask you about — tell me," 
she hesitated, "tell me why you leave when that r)ffi- 
cer makes his appearance." 

"The military law is such that it compels a private 
to keep himself away from the officers. The officer 
might say I was away from my post and maybe I 
would lose my job." 

"Now, Mr. Edwards, you joke. He will come again 
tomorrow afternoon and he w^ill never darken these 
doors again. ^ly father and mother have been very 
much carried away with him. and are desirous that we 
should marry. For that reason I could not meet you, 
for I Knew 1 would betray myself before them. They 
do not know, nor any one else, what has taken place 
between you and me. I will see vou again later. 
Bye, Bye." 

After some time I turned loose her hand. Xow let 
me tell you that w^as the sweetest hand that I ever 
touched in my life. 1 remem1)er the date even now. 
It was February lo, 1865. 

I passed on. The greatest relief of my life was then. 
And I felt elated — I had held her hand. 

One day, not long- after, I mcl the officer in the road 
about a mile from my lodging place. I had my gun, 
and was going very quietly along the road. As he 
came near, I brought down my gun with a salute, but 
I noticed that he didn't return it. 

He halted and said, "Where do you belong, sir?" 

'A\'ell, Colonel, I accepted a position out here as 
a protection for an old gentleman." 

"How long have you been here?" 

"One month, sir." 

"It will be necessary for you to keep yourself closer 
to your quarters than you have been doing. I have 



32 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 



been told that you are boarding with the family; that 
you go duck hunting; and that you are spending the 
balance of your time with the girls, neglecting your 
business." 

"Xow, when I need instructions," said I, angrily, 
"I will go above your rank to get them." He began to 
get down from his horse, and said, "You had better 
retract." 

I stepped back about two paces and said, "Colonel, 
I don't know who you are, but you are outside of your 
duty; you have no jurisdiction over me whatever. I 
follow instructions ; I shall do what I am ordered to do. 
It will be best for you to get back on that horse." 

He mounted his horse, and motioned like he would 
draw his pistol, but when I brought my gun down 
he said, "I see that you will do for a soldier. I was 
Just testing you." 

''Now, let me tell you," I said, "I don't wish to hear 
anything you have to say. You just attend to your 
business and I will attend to mine. You go right on 
now." And he went. 

Some days later I met up with one of General Hill's 
couriers at church not far from Petersburg, and he 
said that all was quiet on the line. He saw nie at 
General Hill's quarters when I captured that yankee 
and recognized me. He told me that he had heard 
about what happened in the road with the Colonel. 

"Oh, yes," I answered. "Do you know that colonel?" 

"No, but I heard him talking and laughing how you 
'set him up.' The colonel said, 'I tell you I struck 
the very man down here the other day. I met him 
in the road. I asked him some questions. He an- 
swered very politely. That fellow has "cut me clean 
out down there." I thought I would play a kind of bluff 
game on him, but he called it at once. I let that fel- 
low go by.' " 

I went to church several times with the old gentle- 
man. One day we all decided to go to church, except 
Miss Emma. Sunday morning we were all ready. 
Miss Emma sent me a little note that morning, telling 
me to inform the others that I would not attend. 



ARMY LIFE OP^ FRANK EDWARDS. 



33 



I^vervbodv was readv, and 1 stepped u]) about starting 
lime.' ]\Ii'ss Emma 'came out Ic the carriage. Miss 
Lou said, "Mr. Edwards, I wish tu introduce you to 
mv sister." 
'Miss Emma replied, "1 have met Mr. Edwards. 
They all began to watch me and laugh. 1 bluslied, 
and so did M^ss Emma. This seemed to amuse lier 
mother verv much. Miss Lou said, "I have been 
noticing you for some time. I have certainly caught 
u]) with you. How will you go to church today"' 
The old gentleman said, "Get right in." 

I replied that T was not feeling well. They all knew 
Miss Emma didn't intend going, as her cousin was 
visitino- her. The little cousin said, "You all go on; 
Mr. Edwards will stay here with Cousin Emma and 
me." I said, "All right." They all seemed to be very 
much diverted. Miss Emma blushed. Miss Lou 
looked at me. "Oh, yes, I have caught up with both 
of you." I was somewhat taken back, and was glad 
when thev went out. 

Miss Emma and I returned to the house. Just be- 
fore we went in we saw Aunt Sallie jumping and 
laughing. Miss Emma remarked, "Just look at tliat 
crazy old nigger." 

"O ves, O yes, T told you something was going to 
happen," replied the old negro. 

That dav was certainly the brightest and happiest 
day of my' life. I have never spent such a day since. 
I know^ r would have sacrificed my life for that girl. 
I felt that 1 was not mistaken in her love. She proved 
her great patriotism and love afterwards. I will tell 
v(Ui about that w hen I get to my life as a prisoner of 
'war. How lovely she was; how true she was; and 
how good and kind she was. 

About half past one o'clock the family returned 
from church. Miss Emma and 1 met them at the gate. 
Miss Lou began to laugh. 

"How have you spent the day. Mr. Edwards?" 
"The best day of my life." 

'I'hen to her sister: "A\'ell. have you enjoyed the 
day. sister?" 

3 BD 



34 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

"Oh, certainly, I have." 

We all went into the house. Miss Lou went into the 
room where we had spent the day and turned and 
said to me, "Mr. Edwards, which chair did you "oc- 
cupy?" I said, "This one," and pointed it out. About 
that time the little cousin came in and said, "Cousin 
Emma occupied this one." Miss Lou said, "Your 
conversation must have been very close, indeed." And 
it was. The chairs were also very close. 

About that time I saw the colonel pass by. Aunt 
Sallie told me a little further on he met her and asked, 
"Are they all well, Aunt Sallie?" 

"Oh, yes; all happy." 

"Is the soldier there yet?" 

"Oh, yes, he came to stay until the war closes." 

"A^ou tell him I would like to be with him some 
time soon." 

Aunt Sallie said, "No, I can't tell that man nothing. 
I tell you that man sho' likes Miss Emma. I tell you 
right now they love one another, and I think they 
will marry." 

"Will you take this note to Miss Emma?" 

"No, I am done with that note business. I never 
expect to take another note for nobody. Let me tell 
you, all the family likes that man ; 'taint no use talk- 
ing." 

Miss Emma and I were expecting to ride out that 
afternoon. Two nice horses were caught out. Aunt 
Sallie cpme out just before we started and was telling 
what that officer said. Miss Emma said, "I don't 
wish to hear anything about that," and we mounted 
and rode away. 

Miss Lou and 1 rode out one afternoon near Peters- 
burg. The cannon began to loar, and she exclaimed, 
"I can't stand that ; let's take another route." 

But that afternoon Miss Emma and I went to ride, 
and took our time to return. Like all happy lovers, 
we said a great many nice things peculiar to young- 
people in love. 1 was the happiest man that e\'er 
mounted a horse. 



ARMY LIFK OF FRANK FUWARDS. 35 

One aflcM-noon wliilc ridin- «.ul 1 asked licr, "What 
arc vou JL^oinj^- to do when I leaver" 

"f will tell vou before you leave. Mr. Ivlwards; 
l)lease don't talk about leavini;-. I feel ju^l like when 
vou .^c) 1 will never see you aj^ain." 

I replied, "That cjuestion will never be solved by 
you and me. We cannot know the future." 

vShe said. "I wish I could tell wdiat woulcl become 
of you. 1 know I will never express myself ai^ain to 
anybodv in life as I have to you." 

"I can't tell vou how I feel towards you," I replied. 
"Never did I think love was so strong. I feel like I 
would offer my life to save yours, notwithstanding;- I 
will soon return to the front when I receive the order. 
I feel like we will meet again." 

"Oh, if I could feel that I would see you again," 
she said, feelingly, "it would be the sweetest thought 
in my great affection for you; and when you return 
and the war is over, 1 will give you my hand." 

One sad thought encompassed me: To receive or- 
ders to report to my command, and that will be very 
soon. The old gentleman and lady and both then- 
daughters seemed to b^ much devoted to me ; their 
aff'ection seemed to be very strong, indeed. I felt like 
before I left them that they were my people. Kind- 
ness and appreciation are powerful influences; in fact, 
they control the world. The old gentleman used all 
the' powers he possessed to influence me to remain 
there until the war closed, and wdiile urging me said : 
"1 assure you that you will never regret your action; 
1 am perfectly satisfied that the war will close in 
ninetv days. I have a place here where I know no one 
will ever discover you." 

"Well," I said, "I am satished that you are really 
conscientious, and I certainly appreciate your great 
interest in my welfare. But I, uneducated, left my 
mother and father, brothers and sisters, and all that 
was dear to me, that I might go and, if necessary, 
sacrifice all for my country, for justice." 

All I had was my honor and integrity, and the 
greatest joy that I have today is that I went wdiere 



36 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

I was ordered and that 1 never faltered in the per- 
formance of a duty. I was there when the third battle 
was fought; I was there at the last battle at Peters- 
burg, and unfortunately was captured by negro troops. 

I will go back to where I left off with the old gen- 
tleman. I could not accept his proposition. ''After 
I have served my country this far, I will go to the 
end, if the Lord will spare me." He carried me 
through to the end and brought me forty-five years 
afterwards. Who could have done that? No one but 
the Lord. 

Now, my friends, I was surely between two fires. 
There was that good family and my great love for Miss 
Emma, the sweetest and best girl in all the world 
to me ; and I was compelled to turn my back and fol- 
low my duty, go to the front, not knowing what would 
be the result ; not knowing but what I would be at 
Petersburg dead before the sun rose again. I cer- 
tainly would change your minds to something more 
than sadness. All that I experienced that day was 
sad, indeed. This was March 20, 1865. 

I did not say to any one that I was looking for or- 
ders to return, but I was expecting them every day. 
It seemed to me it was more than I could stand, to 
turn and leave that one that w^as closer to me than 
any one in the world. I haven't the command of lan- 
guage. Did you, my reader, ever think what great 
power the love for another was? 

Toward the last. Miss Emma and I were together 
most all the time. The day I received orders of recall 
she asked me why it was that I looked sad. I re- 
plied, "The saddest time of my life is now." I ten- 
derly embraced and kissed her. "The time for you 
and I to part will be tomorrow — tomorrow morning 
at seven o'clock." 

She arose and ran into her mother's room. "Mother, 
I can't bear it ; I can't give him up. I will never see 
him again. Let me go to Petersburg with him." Her 
mother said, "AMiy, you can't go. How would you 
look over there with that army of soldiers?" Her 
father and mother knew we were ensfaeed. Thev 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK KDWARDS. 37 

seemed tt* be \ery mucli affected. I went to my 
room — 1 had nioxcd t(» the \acanl r( m ini in tlie house. 
I ne\er closed my eyes thai ni^hl. I cmuM hear the 
sobs of my dearest one all through the nii^ht. 

The next mornini; 1 arose at li\e o'clock. 1 went 
out to my quarters and ])acked uj) what little ciothes 
I had, and cleaned up my .J^un. 1 met up with old 
Aunt Sallie. She sure shook me up. 1 went on to 
the gate and set my i^un down. The bell rang for 
breakfast. The most dreaded time was close at hand. 
I passed on to the dining room. I saw the old gen- 
tleman and his wife could not control their emotions. 
Aunt Sallie handed me a cup of coffee; T drank it. and 
that was all 1 could take. 

I said to the old people, "I will never forget this 
day. I thank you for the great hospitality and the 
great kindness shown me since I have been at your 
home, a private soldier." The old gentleman replied, 
"I feel proud to tell you, I never expected to meet 
anv one in wdiom I would have so great a confidence." 

I replied, "I hope I will never betray that confi- 
dence." 

He said, "Everything has l)een quiet since you have 
been here ; nothing misplaced. I thank you, sir, from 
my heart." The wife said, "I can't tell, Mr. Edwards, 
wdiat we will do with Emma. I never heard of any 
two meeting as you did; just like you had been close 
friends from the start. I never thought I could make 
myself so free with any one as I have with you since 
you came here. Your time here we certainly appre- 
ciate. You are young yet. \\'hen the war closes, 
come right here. You will certainly be cared for." 

I first told the old peo])le good-bye ; then I gave 
Miss Lou my hand and kissed her good-bye. She said, 
"Sister is in her room; just go right in." 

I cannot describe my feelings. 1 went in. She was 
sitting on the sofa. Her great emotion was uncon- 
trollable. 1 began to think I would never leave her. 
I bid them all farewell. That was the greatest trial 
of my life. The family were all in tears. T passed on. 
The old gentleman had liis carriage ready. T went 



38 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

out and took my seat in the carriage. I went to the 
front March 24^ 1865. I had spent two and a half 
months at the home of the kind old gentleman. 

The next morning the enemy began advancing in 
front. This was March 25, 1865. Our command was 
ordered in double quick to meet them. I was a mem- 
ber of the sharpshooters. The line of battle halted. 
The sharpshooters charged the enemy and drove them 
back to their works. \\'e fell back a short distance. 
They chcirged with their entire line. We fell back 
some distance again. Our line of battle held them 
back and finally drove them to their works with heavy 
loss on both sides. 

There was skirmishing for several days. At times 
the main lines would be engaged. It seemed that the 
enemy was reinforcing all the time and moving to our 
right. Our commanders were somewhat confused. 

After General A. T. Hill was killed there seemed to 
be quite a sadness with the boys. He was certainly 
a great general and a good man. He was killed on 
the field. His generalship was never surpassed by 
any one as a corps commander. 

i think it was April ist or 2nd that our entire line 
of sharpshooters were ordered to a certain place not 
far from the crater. On a very long blufif we were 
placed, in works like a half moon. We were slightly 
elevated and it was a fine position indeed. We could 
see their entire line in front. All the negro soldiers, 
about four thousand strong, seemed to be in our 
front. We were looking, and of course dreaded the 
consequences. W^e kept looking ; they seemed to be 
moving about very rapidly. Our line of sharpshooters, 
five hundred strong, to face that dark cloud of troops. 

Our colonel commanding came around and said, "T 
want every man to have one hundred rounds of cart- 
ridges." All hands were sitting waiting to see what 
they would do. W^e thought maybe they were going 
to move somewhere else. I felt like they ought to 
move from there to some other point. The colonel 
said, "If they come this way, don't shoot until they 
get in fifty yards of the line. PjC certain to hold your 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 



39 



,,rc until I yivo tlu- cniniun-l U. tire. I want you to 
k 1 e e V nel;-.-,, in that Unc. 1 luu c never had ne,,^e^. 
t, face 1)'ef<ire Take particular aim and shoot to k.U. 
'u a once- we heard the cotntuand. "forward tor- 
ward, nien." You could see those negroes mo n t k. , 
1,,-eastworks an<l ni..ve up rapidly. ^ "U cot d hea, 
,„- hearts l)eat We knew what that meant. I he 
Lionel said -novs, don't show your head untd 
,f e the corntuand to fire, then r,se on your teet and 

"^''rhe n"oToes kept moving up. They were three 
huttdred ^td fiftyVards from our hne ^W-" -y 
mounted their breastworks. We couU see them n 
Tr pen field We could see four or hve command- 
er> all mounted on wh.te horses; the pretttest shot w 
liad m some time. The colonel said, l.oys, be suit 
an k 11 every man on horseback." They kept coming 
Til we could do was to hold our fire until we heard 

^^Th^Tol^nd rose: -Ready, fire." ;Ve all -eiued to 
shoot at the same time. We couldn t t^ll w^at se 
had accomplished until the ^moke cleared away, the. 
we saw just a few turn their backs and go the othei 
wav It looked to me like we had killed about two 
to each shot All the white otticers on horseback 
were Wiled, together with the horses. They returned 

to their ditch. . ,, 

In about fifteen minutes they came again. Oui 
colonel said, "Now boys, just as soon as they moun 
hd" breastworks commence firing." They came righ 
alon..- just like thev meant business. Everv man in 
?he Tine did his bek shooting. From the time thev 
left their works, you c.uild see them falling in all 

'''Tsaw one who seemed to be the largest negro on 
the line, and saw he was making for a big pine stump. 
He was sure in a h,.t place. I raisec mv gun and fire . 
He fell, rose about half wav up, and tell again. 1 said 
to the man next to me. "Kill that nigger ; he is using 
all the power he has to get to that stump. He fired 
and the negro went down to rise no more. 1 hey 



40 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

came on up, 1)Ut hardly so far as the first time; then 
they wavered and turned. Our boys gave that old 
''Rebel Yell" as they went. That was twice they had 
been repulsed. 1 can't tell how many negroes were 
lying there kicking, but the majority were stilled for- 
ever. 

^^'ell, in al3out forty-five minutes they came again. 
Though a big chance, they decided to flank us. They 
formed two re'giments of white soldiers, one on the 
right and the other to the left. They reinforced the 
negro brigade. The colonel said, "I don't think we 
can stand here but one fire and give those negroes 
the same chance they had. Don't fire until they get 
about the same distance they were the first time." 
Their lines extended a good distance on our right 
and left. 

AVe wondered where our army had gone. Every- 
thing had cleared up and gone from Petersburg, and 
our little command was there killing negroes. On 
they came. The colonel said, "Boys, when you fire 
the first time, fall right back about two hundred yards 
to that old fort." \\> did as we were ordered. AA'e 
dreaded that run. We were exposed to their fire all 
the way to the fort. 

They came up rapidly, and never saw our boys 
during the whole time. When they were about sev- 
enty-five yards away, the colonel said, "Fire." We 
fired. 

Now, my friends, let me tell you how I was pro- 
moted. When we gave way to run, I outran every- 
thing on our line, and got to the fort ahead of all of 
them. We lost about fifteen men going to the fort. 
I outran bullets, men and all, and did not receive a 
scratch ; but I lost my old shoes. I regretted this, and 
would have turned back, but I reflected that i had 
no time for shoes just then. About half of our ammu- 
nition was out, and my gun was hot. I saw the ne- 
groes were getting close by. The colonel said, "Boys, 
we are compelled to do something right here. We 
must hold this fort until our ammunition is exhausted." 

Just as fast as they would come up we would shoot 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK FDWARDS. 41 

them down. Wc liacl abattoirs in ..ur front, and we 
would slioot them down before they could -et throu-h. 
\1)out that time some one said to throw over these 
hand o-renades, and we let them -o. The white sol- 
diers had disappeared somewhere; nothm.^" but ne- 
o-roes were in sii^ht. Our ammunition i^ave out. 1 
don't think there was a cartrid-e left. 1 never saw 
such heroism as was shown there. I saw we were 
o-one All our hand grenades were exhausted. I here 
was nothing- but dead negroes in all directions around 
that fort Although we had holes to shoot through, 
we lost a great manv men. There was not one among 
us that thought we would escape from the fort alive. 
I just give up. They left a few of us, and we sur- 
rendered As it happened, two wdiite officers came 
along about that time. I went out with a white piece 
of cloth to my gun and held it up. A very large and 
tall negro came up to me. I had said all during the 
war that I would die before I would surrender to a 
neo-ro but let me tell you, I had forgotten that reso- 
lut'ion I did everything that negro commanded me 
to do,' and I tell vou I did it quick. He said, "Throw 
down that gun, or I will put a ball in you." I had my 
left coat sleeve off mv shoulder, and had my gun m 
that sleeve, the iron was so hot. He caught hold ot 
my sleeve and gave it a pow^erful jerk and came very 
near jerking me down, and tore my coat nearly to 
pieces. I got it on again somehow . He said, "Damn 
vou, I want everything you got." 

' I gave him a half plug of tobacco. I thought that 
woufd quiet him. He was proud of that tobacco and 
bit off about half at one chew. He said, "What else, 
and I gave him mv pocket knife. "What else." I gave 
him all the money I had, $40 in Confederate currencv, 
and told him that was all. He sa\v my pipe stem in 
mv coat pocket, caught hold of it, gave it a jerk and 
ne'arlv threw me dow^n again. I saw he intended to 
kick me or hit me with his gun. He caught me by 
the shoulder and shoved me. He certainly intended 
to kick me as he shoved me, but I made the greatest 
jump then that I ever made. He missed me about 



42 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

an inch. I felt the breeze, that was all. "You damn 
poor devil," he said, "go to the rear." And I went. 

I would like to know what my readers think about 
that negro charge, as I have narrated it. I don't know 
whether you have the right conception or not. I can't 
tell you what became of about half our men. I think 
they went right down the line and then across a big 
swamp. We lost about two-thirds of our men in 
some way ; we could not account for them. Our colo- 
nel was wounded in the body on the way to the fort. 
I think the negroes took charge of him. It was every 
man for himself after we came out of the fort. It 
was all I could do to get loose from the one that cap- 
tured me. 

I passed on back to where we killed so many ne- 
groes. I stopped and looked over the ground. I 
think that at the breastworks and at the fort there 
were no less than two thousand killed and w^ounded, 
mostly dead. After we found our way up to the white 
troops we were treated very nicely as prisoners of 
war. They knocked up some barrels of "hard tack" 
and pickled pork, and we certainly did justice to that. 

A\'e were very much surprised at the expressions 
they used. They said, "Hello, ])oys, you are very 
black like you have- been killing those damn negroes. 
\\> forced them nut for you to kill. \\> don't care 
if you kill them all out. A\'e all would have been home 
now had it not l)een for the damn negroes. A\>11, 
boys, the war will close just as soon as reinforcements 
get around in the rear of General Lee. About sixty 
thousand troops, just from AA^ashington City, never 
had hred a gun, the best troops we ever saw." General 
Lee surrendered about one week from that time. 

1 was tired, had l)een fighting all day and had noth- 
ing to eat. We camped right there all night. I don't 
think we had over two hundred men out of five hun- 
dred that came out that morning. Wg fought negroes 
all day and the yankee army in Petersburg. General 
Lee was gone. AX'cll, the next morning we went out 
on the boats toward hell, if you will excuse the ex- 
pression. It proved to be a veritable hades. 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 43 

just before we iiioxed out, all the ])risMiu'rs ])resent 
were ordered in line to answer to our names. The 
officer in command slei)])ed out in front and said. 
"Well, gentlemen and ])risoners of war, 1 understand 
one Union soldier, a prisoner, was shot to death in 
A\'ilmington yesterday by the Confederate soldiers. 
W'e expect to retaliate." Another seri^eant came (jut 
with a small box in his hand, in which there were sev- 
eral hundred tickets. "Xow," he said. "T want every 
man in this line to draw one ticket from tliis box." 
There were about six hundred prisoners. We all drew 
one. The tickets were numbered. He called out a 
certain number. "The man that drew that number 
step out.'' \Xe all looked to see who the man was 
that drew the number; no one step]:)ed out; no one 
seemed to have the num])er. The officer turned and 
said, "Gentlemen, you are all very fortunate. I feel 
considerably relieved. 1 can't tell you the secret now. 
Captain, you can forward your prisoners to the boats." 

just before we went aboard, T heard one of the 
guard say to another, "Those fellows never knew they 
were drawing for their life this morning." 

I have thought a great deal about that drawing. l)ut 
I never understood it. I thought to myself maybe it 
would be better to say nothing about what T heard the 
yankee say. All of our boys wondered, but 1 always 
had my opinion. 

We all marched on board the vessel. 1 must say 
that our treatment as prisoners of war by the white 
soldiers was very nice. They questioned our ])oys 
about the great slaughter (^f negroes the day ])efore. 
They stated that about twenty-hve hundred were 
missino-, and they seemed to be j^retty well satisfied 
with the result. They were very mucli surprised that 
our force consisted of only five hundred men. 

I saw where the Merrimac and Monitor engaged in 
their life and death struggle. W'e passed by old For- 
tress Monroe. W> could see a great distance out on 
the Atlantic. This was my first trip on the water. W'e 
did not know where we were going. W'e were sub- 
ject to their orders, even to send us to the Xorth Pole. 



44 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

I preferred anywhere but that hell where we landed; 
pardon the expression. We spent the night on the 
water wath a great cloud of despair and misery hover- 
ing over us. Nothing but woe and misery from the 
first to the last. We were half clad, out on the deep 
waters of the ocean. 

Those seemed to be the darkest days of my life, hard 
fighting, thirsty, hungry, half clad, no future, our army 
ahnost gone, so many of our brave heroes killed on the 
battlefield, our homers burned, our cities destroyed and 
we prisoners of war, out on the waters of the great 
ocean, and did not know where we would land. I 
don't think you can know or understand our situation ; 
it is beyond" description. There was nothing in sight, 
nothing on earth for us. No pen can write, no tongue 
can express the horrors of that te'/rible night. We 
were not allowed to express our feelings to one an- 
other. AVe could only look on the dark side of life, 
though we had one of the highest privileges of man- 
kind : "Lord, be our helper, come to our rescue, lift 
the dark shadow from our eyes and at last save us all." 

I tell you my friends I esteemed that the highest 
honor I could enjoy, to call on our Lord and Maker, 
the only one to whom we could go for protection. 



BOOK TWO. 



Bitter Prison Life, Under Guard of Negro Soldiers — 
An Unexpected Renewal of a Lovely Girl's Interest 
in a Soldier Boy. 

The next morning- we drew anchor and steamed 
away. In the afternoon, about four o'clock, on April 
5, 1865, our boat steamed up close to a wharf. "This 
is Point Lookout ; this is your place of confinement," 
one of our captors said. The white guard left us. 

I said, "Who will be our guard?" 

They replied, "Negro soldiers will take you to your 
destiny." 

We all said, "Lord, help us." 

The negro soldiers came, very much uniformed and 
very dignified. They commanded us to come out. 
form a line and answer to our names. We junijied 
up, went out and formed a line. The roll was called ; 
two men were missing. The captain went around to 
the captain of the Ixiat and said, "Two men are miss- 
ing." 

"They jumped oxerboard last night and were 
drowned," was the reply. 

"All right." The negro captain said, "Right face, 
march ; tile up to the colonel's quarters." 

We all registered our names. They took every tiling 
we liad and nothing was ever returned to us. We 
could see the great walls of the prison at a distance. 

"Right face, forward, marcli," commanded the ne- 
gro' captain. "Damn you, step up there in front, or 
you will get this bayonet." I tell you, our boys step])ed 
along. "File left ; can't you see that gate. Get in that 
gate. Vou will ne\er l)eat another negro." We 
passed through the gate. "Xow, I'll pull the l)ridle 
ofi" ; go." 

(45) 



46 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

We found about twenty-five thousand prisoners on 
ten acres of land, which, of course, made it very much 
crowded. I passed on to the lower side. I thought I 
would step up to the wall and see how far it was to 
the Chesapeake Bay. I heard several of the men say- 
ing, "Come back! Come back! You will get killed. 
Don't you see that ditch ; don't step across that ditch 
or you will be killed." 

I was just in the act of stepping over the ditch; 
only two more steps to carry me over. I looked up 
and saw a negro guard ready to shoot me when I 
stepped over. They said nothing to a prisoner. If 
one stepped over that ditch he was shot watnout a 
word. I was in there only ten minutes and came \ery 
near getting shot. I stepped back from the ditch. 

We were all assigned to different wards in the 
prison. The walls were thirty feet high, with a plat- 
form on top four feet high, with banisters on each 
side. About one hundred negroes walked that ])lat- 
forni night and day. 

There were six small pumps on the ground and 
twenty-five thousand men to get water. Sometimes 
the pumps needed adjusting, but there was no one 
to look after them. Once while very thirsty I thought 
I would step down to the pump. I saw a thousand 
men doing all they could to get water? After awhile 
I crowded in. Every time I placed my cup under, 
some other fellow would knock it away, and it was 
only now and then that I would get about half a swal- 
low. Finally I gave it up. I was nearly exhausted, 
and decided I would go back to my little old tent and 
perhaps I could get water at night. 

I fixed up my tent so it would hold, Init a very light 
wind would blow it over. The prisoners had to look 
after themselves, for tnere was nobody to show any- 
thing. I saw one or two of our crowd with no place 
to go. I said, "If you will help me fix this old tent, 
three can stay here." They helped and we tented 
together all the time. I was hungry and thirsty and 
I did not get any supper the first night. 

The little paths about four feet wide they called 



ARMY \AFK OF FRANK FDWARDS. ^~ 

streets There were two lar^e .i;ates l.. the prison. 
One i^ate led t.ut m the Chesapeake I'.ay ; a hne ])hiee 
to bathe and wash v.-ur clmlu-s. W e had n.. ^li^n.^e 
and had to wasli what we liad on m tlie 1)ay. W e had 
no soap or lire. Sometimes we w<.uhl wasli our cloih- 
ini;- and spread them on the .ground, let tliem dry a 
little on ont? side and then on the other. Somelnnes 
we would wasli them and put them ri-ht on a-ain. 
I came 1)ack that hrst ni-ht to see if I could i^^et 
water. I went out to tlie ])umr) and took my cup alon.o-. 
At about ten .."clock 1 reached (>ut my cup and ,-:ot 
it alx.ut half full— about half a pint. 

A i^reat manv soldiers had been there all durin- the 
war-^hev had'l)een there so Ioii.l; they were nothing 
but -amblers. 1 tell vou wdien our old regulars got 
started out after them they had to get out from there. 
They had all sorts of money, gold and silver. 1 hey 
had 'been there three or four years, and were fat and 
sleek and had comfortable huts. Our boys would go 
right in and take all their money, all their clothing and 
tell them to get out. 

I was told to watch ; that the negroes would shoot 
me down after dark when T had gotten water; that 
one had to go straight to his tent; so I went straight 
to mine. I "had mv head out, and saw a negro come 
walking down the'street. He said, "Take that skull 
cap back in that tent." I obeyed his order. 

Thev rang the bell for breakfast. 1 soon caught on 
to that. \Ve went down to a very long house that 
was used for a dining room. We all went in and t.x.k 
our seats on long benches. \\'e ate out of tin plates, 
and these very close together. Sometimes you would 
hear the negroes sing out, "Close up, there." Some- 
times, through mistake, our fellows would leave one 
plate between them, and sometimes on purpose. 
As they had the plates all numbered, it was next to 
impossible to fool them. 

One morning two of my crowd left one plate be- 
tween them ; one of those negroes came to where they 
were sitting, caught hold of one by the shoulder and 
jerked him backwards right on tlie door and kicked 



48 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

and hit him several times. One of our crowd was 
very game. He was from Montgomery, Ala. He 
jumped up from the table, knocked the negroes flat on 
the floor and jumped on them with both feet. I tell 
you blood streamed. About that time they all grabbed 
iiim and took him out and put him on the buck-and- 
gag frame ; then they tied him down ; a sharp stick 
was stuck in the roof of his mouth and the other end 
rested on or near his tongue, very hard ; they then 
bound his limits together and he remained in this 
condition one hour. 

Wq got up from the ta1)le and went out. The ne- 
groes came up and began making threats. I tell you 
we were about ready to jump on them and disarm 
them. About that time the colonel and tw'o other 
white officers came along and asked what was the mat- 
ter. Our boys began to tell them. The colonel said, 
"We will investigate this matter." He went out to 
where the man was "bucked," the bloodiest man you 
ever saw. He cut him loose. The man could hardly 
stand. The colonel said, "Take this man down to the 
hospital for treatment. Now, I want fifteen witnesses 
that saw this difficulty." He wanted fifteen negroes. 
Only ten saw it. "Well, now, I want five from the 
prisoners." They were present. Ten negroes and 
five prisoners were the witnesses. I did not see the 
difficulty ; I was away with a small piece of of bread. 
I was very hungry, even after eating that bread, and 
was somewhat excited. The colonel said, "I don't 
care to hear anything more about the difficulty; just 
close right up." The negroes that "were in the diffi- 
culty were discharged and our own men were in charge 
of the dining room after that, I never heard of the 
man that was gagged after he was sent to the hospital. 

I looked after myself, and that was all I could do. 
T went to my tent, and walked around to see wdiat 
manner of place it was. I saw^ a great many sick men 
lying there in their old pieced tents. No one around 
them. Sometimes you would see them carried to the 
hospital, and there die of bone scurvy. I could see 
liundreds reeling as they went to the well for water, 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK FDWARDS. '49 

;in(l I lia\c' often -i\cn niir boys water that could not 
^ct to the pumps. 

In the afternoon. 1 stepped out t(» the l)ay. where I 
could see oyster fishing going (»n. They had sail boats 
with drag nets. I saw one man out alxmt two hundred 
yards bathing. 1 saw him go down ; he rose and 
screamed out, "Shark!" lie went down again, and 
I saw his foot kicking to get loose from the shark. 
The man-eater had him and was going out to sea. I 
was told the sharks drowned and ate a great many. 
I was very careful where 1 went after that, endeayor- 
ing to hncl out the location of all the dangerous places. 

1 saw a crowd of men standing in a bunch, and as 
I approached them, I saw a man lying on the ground, 
breathing his last. He had been shot by a negro the 
night before. No one knew the man. At all times 
through the night you could hear a gun shoot. Those 
negroes shot at random, it seemed. As our boys \yere 
close together they hardly eyer missed striking some 
one. Late one night 1 had just gotten from my pallet 
and was sitting in my tent. I was cold and had noth- 
ing to spread oyer me. 1 heard a gun lire. The ball 
struck the tent pole just above my head, glanced and 
struck my tent mate's canteen, close to his head, mak- 
ing a little noise. He jumped up and said, "Are you 
shot?" "Xo," I replied. He looked and found that his 
canteen was shot through and through. '*How come 
that?" "Some one shot oyer this way, hit that tent 
pole and the ball glanced oyer there." He was badly 
frightened. We did not sleep again that night. 

Eyery day at ten o'clock the bread wagons came in. 
All prisoners were nioyed away from that gate, as 
no one was allowed near there \yhen the wagons came 
in. If you were under forty yards from the gate, 
those negroes would come up and giye you a kick 
with their foot. Sometimes our boys \yould be yery 
hungry and weak, standing and looking for the bread 
wagon, and would sometimes reel as they walked ; and 
when they could not get out of the \yay as quick as 
the others, the negroes would send them over on their 
head, X^o one dared to remonstrate, knowdng he 

4 ED 



50 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

would get the same treatment. Sometimes, for some 
reason, the bread wagon would be from two to foiir 
hours late. The poor fellows would crowd up all 
around for two hundred yards back, surging, pushing, 
to see. They were so hungry and weak, and their 
anxiety was so great, it seenied they were almost crazy 
for bread. 

I could live where a great many would have per- 
ished to death, as I never ate much. Still I was very 
hungry indeed. I saw men stand and look so wistful 
and get so weak that they would sink right down to 
the ground and be stepped on by others surging to 
see the bread wagon come in. After awhile it would 
come, bringing in the "glad tidings of great joy." 
Notwithstanding the small amount that was issued, 
that was our life, our greatest desire ; one little morsel 
would be so sweet. It did seem to me that the great- 
est strains of my life, mentally and physically, were 
the times when the bread wagon was delayed. 

I have been on post in the army when it seemed my 
time would never come to be relieved. But there is 
no comparison, my friends. You place a man where 
there is no water and where there is scarcely anything 
to eat and keep him there, and I know of no greater 
punishment. I saw men standing around there trem- 
bling. Sometimes they would fall and had to be helped 
to their feet. I saw a man going around with bone 
scurvy ; these boys were nothing but skin and bones. 
It seemed that all love or sympathy for any one was 
gone. If you were sick or happened to an accident, 
you got very little assistance. There was the negro 
guard that you were compelled to keep your eye on, 
or he would shoot you. You never knew when you 
were out of danger. 

A small storm came up one day and blew our tents 
all to pieces. There were a great many sick men who 
had no protection. They lay with nothing over them. 
Maybe next day they were carried out dead, ^'ou 
could see them at all times of the day moving out the 
sick and wounded ; a great many killed and wounded 
from gun shots at night ; while a great many of them 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 51 

w..uKl (lie a nalural death. \ ^u were in dan-cr at all 

times. 

The bii;- ,L;ate tliat opened nut t(. the bay was open 
all dav; at '^sunset this was closed; you had to be in- 
side at sunset. If vou were outside wdien the gate 
was shut vou woukf remain there until next mornmg 
o-uarded there all night. The negro guards would 
crive you, "Hail Columl)ia;' curse you and tell you the 
bottom rail was on top now. And you would have to 
stand there and take it, not daring to do anythmg 

I will tell about our rations. Two meals a day, 
morning and night. The breakfast was a small piece 
cut across a hve-cent loaf of bread, a small cup ot 
beef water, which made me sick when I drank it. 1 
w(uild take mv bread and go out. We would get this 
twice a day, nothing else. We saw no meat of any 
kind The beef water was very hlthy, being covered 
with bugs and flies, but our boys would eat anything, 
as any man will when he gets hungry enough. We 
would rake the insects out and drink it, and go on and 
think about the next time and liow long it would be 
before we would get the next meal. 

Several times thev would give us half a pint ot raw 
meal and we were not allowed hre with which to cook 
it \\'e just mixed it with a little water, stirred it 
up and drank it down. It gave us all cholera morbus. 

The first raw cup of meal T ate came very near 
taking mv life. It seemed to me I was never so sick. 
\t midnight I began to vomit. There w^as a small 
ditch about three 'feet awav and I put my head o\'er 
in that ditch, and I think I must have fainted. The 
ouard came along and said, "Take that head back 
m that tent." I vaguelv heard him, but I never moved. 
He repeated the command. The man that was with 
me jerked me bv the heels back into the old tent. 
Then I was at mvself. I know 1 fainted. I barely 
heard his command. He brought his gun down on 
me, and mv companion pulled me back just in time. 
Several of our number were taken out the next morn- 
ing who had died from the effects of the meal. 

Sometimes the white officers would be away. We 



52 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

were told the negroes would exchange the bread for 
meal to make the prisoners sick and kill some of them. 
There is no telling what else was added. They 
would do anything" to hurt us at any time. 

The water we drank tasted more like cod fish than 
anything I ever tasted. It seemed to me I would 
heave when I drank it. It had a very foul odor. The 
stockade was in a low flat place. It rained very often 
there and we would get very wet. It was as muddy 
as it could be, and nowhere to go to avoid it. On 
rainy nights we had to sit up and sleep. I used a 
puncheon to sit on and sleep ; it was too wet to lie 
down on the ground. I was never sick, except when 
I ate raw meal, and then I was very sick. 

I don't believe there is a prison on earth to com- 
pare with this wartime bastile. The horrors and in- 
human treatment we received at the hands of the 
negro soldiers at Point Lookout, Delaware, was ter- 
rible. They decided we were to blame for all the 
bad, and that they would avenge it. I was walking- 
close to the wall one day, when I looked up at the 
guard and stopped. I desired to ask a question. He 
said, "Don't you be looking at me, you long-headed 
white devil ; move up." I obeyed that order very 
quick. I looked back. "Don't you look at me," he 
again commanded. And I did not. 

Let me say a word about the dining room and the 
boys in there. They were detailed out of prison to wait 
on our men and keep everybody straight. They 
were very fat, indeed, and getting very much inflated 
with egotism, and they tried to exercise a great deal 
of authority. One day they began to issue commands 
like the negro soldiers ; to curse and tell our fellows 
they would report them to the negro officers. 

Of course, we did all we could to obey the rules 
of the dining room, but, you know, my comrades, 
how mean and commanding our nurses and cooks 
would get in the army. They had been there some 
time. One day two of our sick men came in, very 
weak and feeble, and fell over on the table and broke 
two or three plates. U]) stepped the head boss. He 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK FDWARDS. 53 

wa^ (.no nt ..111- snrt, 1)iU lie was ..vcr ihc others in 
there and, with an nalh. he said, -l will report you 
follows fur that Im the ne-m officers." Wei, two or 
three of our boys decided mi a j.lan f. .^ct liim away 
from the dining room. 

A day or two later some one told Inm there was a 
letter outside for him. He asked, "Where is that let- 
ter'^ 1 would like very much to see that letter, i 
expect it is from the post commander about that dif- 
ficulty. I liave reported the crowd." 

Vb'out that time two or three men grabbed him. 
Thev threw him down, and tied his hands and feet. 
He beo-an to beg. He saw they had him I never 
saw such a beating as they gave him. ihey held 
ui) a little, and one asked, "Did you report that sick 
man to the negro officer?" Then they started to beat- 
in- him again, and I began to think they would kill 
him They finallv untied him and let him up. '"Aow, 
if we hear any more, we will lix you for good next 

time." 

We never heard anvthing more from the man any- 
where I think he went to the hospital. He was an 
old rat, and had been there for years. I tell you those 
others were extremely quiet after that, and we had 
no more trouble. The negroes on the post would 
holler out, "Give it to him; we know him, and lie 
is mean." 

It came mv turn to go out and cut old slabs of wood 
to cook our' bread. This was my t^rst time to cut 
wood. Twelve prisoners were detailed for the work. 
We were formed like guard mounting, with each one 
of us numbered. Eight negroes guarded us. The 
negro sergeant said, "Right face! I want every man 
to keep step." I always kept step, but I made a 
little stumble over a little stump. The stumps were 
verv close, indeed, and I came very near falling on 
the' next fellow. One of the negroes rushed up and 
kicked me severely; kicked me over two or three 
men. They caught me and kept me from falling. He 
said, "Now, damn vou, stand up." I was weak, as 
I had had nothing 'nourishing to eat. In fact, all of 



54 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

our boys were very Aveak, indeed ; not strong- enough 
to cut wood. 

We went out about two miles, close to the water, 
and cut up old rafts. W'e cut a great deal of wood 
that day. When we were through our hands were 
very badly blistered. About five o'clock we stopped. 
''Form line! Right face! Forward, march." Just 
about the same place where I fell, another man fell. 
He fell against another man's heel and knocked out 
two front teeth. ''Don't kick him, for that will do 
him," said the negro officer. That was my first and 
last time to cut wood. 

We had some difficulty nearly every day. The 
greatest hero in that prison was from Houston, Texas. 
One day he quietly remarked: "I have never been out 
to cut wood, and I hope I never will. I expect to 
stay and obey their orders if possible." That ground 
was a very rough place, indeed. Almost every morn- 
ing there was some disturbance at the gate. It was 
a hard matter to walk in line, for some one contin- 
ually stumbled. And when one stumbled he was cer- 
tain to get a kick. A\>11, this Texan said : "If I am 
detailed to cut wood I will kill the first negro that 
kicks me." All the boys heard what he said. They 
were very anxious to see him go out. Every morning 
they would crowd around the gate to see if he went 
out, and by and by he did go. 

Accidentally, he stepped on the heel of his trousers. 
They were torn at the heel just enough to hang a 
little. He fell halfway down, and came very near 
hitting the guard as he fell. That negro stepped 
right up and gave him a very severe kick . The Texan 
turned very quick, jerked the negro's gun from him, 
shot him down and plunged his bayonet clear through 
another negro and twisted it around. The negroes 
seemed to be frightened. They stood about four sec- 
onds before they fired on the Texas, and then they 
shot him dead. A regular rebel yell went up when 
the negro was shot. 

That put a stop to the kicking. It seemed to bring 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK FDWARDS. 55 

about a little more quiet at tlic barracks also, and 
more especially our side. 

The soldiers' were lioini;- out all the time after Gen- 
eral Lee surrendered. They took the oath of allegi- 
ance before the time came for all. Old citizens tried 
to get me to take the oath and come out. They of- 
fered me $40 and board as long as I desired. I said 
to them I could not. I had suffered a great deal, Init 
I expected to take the oath when the right time came. 
That time came after awhile. 1 was determined to 
go out honoral)ly. And I did. 

It was awful to see the number of dead soldiers 
going out every day, most of them from bone scurvy ; 
their limbs would perish away. This was very pam- 
ful, indeed. I have seen them lie and moan all night, 
and no w^ater to give them. I tell you, I am not ex- 
aggerating when I say we cared for nothing only for 
something to eat and^ water to drink. It seemed to 
me that if I only could have had plenty to eat and 
w^ater to drink I would have been content even with 
the other sufferings. 

One day I w^ent to the pumps to get water. Just 
as I came up, I saw two men at the pumps, shoving 
and pushing. Finally one, a Mexican, got his cup 
under the flow of w^ater ; the other, an Indian, knocked 
it out of his hand. I have seen men knock one another 
down in the mud. You could see men fighting any 
wav vou looked, and some of them got hurt very badly. 
Well', that Mexican stepped out of the w^ay and called 
that Indian. The Indian stepped out. The Mexican 
said, ''Now, I am going to w^hip you or you whip me 
right here. 

"The Indian said, "Boys, make a ring and let no 
one come inside that ring." 

Of course, the boys made the ring. They made a 
choice of five men each as seconds. No one w^as 
allowed to interfere; nor to separate them. It was 
to be a fight to the finish. They agreed to fight, one 
for the North, one for the South. The negro guard 
heard the agreement. They seemed to be very much 
enthused. The Indian chose the North and the 



56 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

Mexican the South. The hospital doctors came out 
on a nearby housetop. The hght began. The Mexi- 
can hit the first blow, but did not knock the Indian 
down. The Mexican was all hre, while the Indian 
seemed to be very quiet at first, but finally knocked 
the Mexican flat. He arose very quickly. The ne- 
groes roared when the North knocked down the 
South. 

They fought for one hour. When they got very 
tired, one would say, "Hold up ; rest awhile." One 
would sit on one ditch-bank, while the other would 
fall back on the other bank, and rest five minutes. 
I never saw such bloody men by the time they fin- 
ished, and they had torn their clothing to pieces. I 
walked away, I did not care to see any more. Later 
I returned. Just as I came up they each fell back 
on the ditch-banks facing each other. The Mexican 
said, "Let's make friends." The Indian gave him 
his hand, and so thev made friends. The Mexican 
said, "We will go to the sutler's tent and treat." The 
Mexican had greenbacks, and they went. The Mexi- 
can gave him as much bread as he could eat, and the 
Indian ate four pones before he would quit. The 
North and the South made a draw fight. 

Our men in prison were of all kinds. They did not 
care for anything. Never was there such fighting as 
was done in that prison. I was actually ashamed of 
our men. I felt like it was a disgrace to Southern 
soldiers. We separated them when we saw they were 
going to get hurt. One fellow from Alabama thought 
of a good plan. He sent one morning for all the stew^- 
ards of the different wards to report to his tent. He 
had a way to stop so much fighting. He said, "A\^e 
have been separating the men that fought every day, 
and they have found out they will get protection. So 
just go back and report to the men they will get no 
protection when they get to fighting." ^^>ll, it 
worked like a charm. There was no fighting ; they 
received no protection. I expect we give some peo- 
ple too much protection here now. 

When my mind reverts to that horrible prison I 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK ?:DWARDS. 



57 



wonder whv we were kept there so long after Lee 
had surrendered and the armies had -one lionie. I 
have never 1)een able to account for it yet. 

1 lell vou it was a close call in that prison. 1 lure 
were no' friends ; no one you especially cared to con- 
verse with- no one cared if you i;ot sick; and not a 
drink of water could you get. It seemed that there 
was no future; everything was dark indeed. 

One dav the negro guard came up the street in- 
quiring for Frank Edwards, of Georgia. I answered. 
-Come and go with me to headquarters, he said. 
I went to the commandant's quarters. T went right in. 

"Where are you from, sir?" 1 was asked. 

'^General Lee's army, sir." 

"Well, what state?" 

"Georgia." _, 

"What regiment and company.^ i told mm. 

"Did you ever act as protector for an old gentleman 
in the country, in Virginia?" 

"I did." . , • t 1 

'^Well, sir, vou have one good friend m that home— 
vour best girl. Here is something she asked me i 
I would see that you received, and I said I would 
at the risk of mv life. Here is a five-dollar gold piece 
she sent vou. I spent the night at that home night 
before last. I never was so well entertained. \ our 
command passed by that home and she learned you 
were captured or killed. I intormed them that you 
were captured and carried to Point Lookout Dela- 
ware, and that vou were there. That is why she sent 
vou this mone;-. She said. -Will you carry him a 
note"^' 'I would be glad to, but we are not allowed 
to do so. However, I will tell him what you say. 
'Tell him,' she said, 'that I regret, indeed, that he 
was captured, and to use this money for his comfort, 
and that I hope he will be released very soon. 

No one can imagine how I felt. I thanked the 
of^cer for his kindness. I felt like that money was a 
o-odsend. That monev saved my life. I used five cents 
?verv dav for bread ; that kept me on my teet. i was 



58 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

SO much relieved, and it was bliss to know it came 
from that sweet girl ; to know she thought of me. 

I began to look around me to see if I could make a 
little money. I used fifty cents of the money to buy 
an outfit to make gutta percha rings. I bought this 
little outfit from an old vet who had been there a 
good while. After awhile I had six rings ready 
for sets. I had ten cents in silver. I 1)eat that out 
very thin, indeed. I soon had sets in them. I was 
at work on those rings most every day for two months, 
though I was so nervous I could hardly do anything. 
\A'hen they were finished they looked very nice. I 
had three sets on each one of them — silver dominoes 
and hearts. I was very proud of my rings. 

Anything that was made l)y the old Rebs (as they 
called us) at Point Lookout was a prized relic. I was 
very much afraid somebody would get them. I got 
a little stick to string them on. I thought I would 
sell them for five dollars each. Those New Yorkers 
would come down- occasionally, reconnoitering around, 
just to see what they could find. I was on the look- 
out for them. They were delighted at coming to 
Point Lookout to see those four-footed animals ; they 
thought the old rebels were some kind of ferocious 
beasts. 

Well, one day some of them came riding around the 
driveway. I thought this the time for me to dispose 
of my rings. I had everything planned out, even to 
what disposition I would make of my money. All 
the boys were coming up to see the trade. I went 
right up to a carriage in which there were three ladies 
and three men. 1 motioned for them to stop, but they 
ignored me. They drove a little further on, and 
looked all around. One of the ladies appeared very 
much interested in me. It had been some time since 
T had the opportunity to speak to a lady. She kept 
on talking to me. From her manner I was certain I 
had made one sale. I handed her my stick of rings. 
They said they were the prettiest lot of rings they 
had ever seen made in prison. There were six of them 
in the carriage, and 1 had six rings. They were all 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 59 

linally fitted. I was standiiii^- there ready to receive 
my money for the rings. By that time there were five 
thousand soldiers standing around looking at us ; but 
most of them were looking at the ladies. I was stand- 
ing as straight as a line, without hat or shoes, and my 
hair was very long. More tlian half of the prisoners 
were barefooted. 

The lady I had been talking to would look at my 
feet and then at the rings. I thought finally she would 
give me a pair of shoes for one ring. There was one 
lady in the carriage whose looks I did not like ; she 
looked deceitful. Finallv she said, "Drive on, Jim." 
He drove away at a rapid ^ace to the gate. I received 
nothing for my rings. My comrades became an en- 
raged crowd, and everv one of them rushed right after 
them around to the gate. They drove out in a very 
great hurry. The negro guard told us to get back or 
he would shoot right into our ranks. We did not sep- 
arate as quickly as he wished. One of the negroes 
threw some kind of explosive right on our boys. It 
exploded close to one man's foot, tearing his pants 
and his leg from ankle to knee joint. He was carried 
to the hospital, where he died the next morning, pois- 
oned from that explosive. The guards kept such on 
hand to stop any disturbances. 

I was a very angry man. They trapped me that 
time. I was in one trap and I could see no crack to 
get out. This was the prison. 

My comrades and friends, we loved our country, our 
state, our homes and firesides. \\^e loved our men as 
Confederate soldiers. No greater honor can be paid 
to the men of the South than to say they are the sons 
of Confederate soldiers. The w^omen of the South, too, 
share in the honor. You may read carelessly, or you 
may read and forget, and may think that after forty- 
five years, you have heard so much you do not care 
to hear any more, but I feel sure that at least the sol- 
diers will agree with me in what I have said. 

The soil trod by a patriot is holy ground, and though 
his banner may be overwhelmed, and his cause de- 



60 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

feated, yet his memory and his example will go down 
as a benediction to his people. 

Let us say wherein we failed, and wherein we did 
not fail. We failed to establish the Confederacy. 
Why? For no other reason than that God decreed 
otherwise. The military generalship was not at fault. 
It was not because the Confederate soldier faltered 
or failed to go where he was ordered, but it was not 
God's will that a great nation like the United States 
should be divided. It was the cause of liberty, the 
cause of justice, that fired our souls. For this we felt 
it our duty to do and to die. We left our homes in de- 
fense of justice, willing to stand and die in front of 
the enemy ; willing to go into unknown dangers and 
face the greatest suffering possible for man to bear. 
That was at Point Lookout ; nothing ever surpassed 
that prison from a human standpoint. The Federal 
prisoners at Andersonville were not the recipients of 
such inhuman treatment. I do not approve and will 
not try to justify any government in mistreating pris- 
oners of war; it makes no dift'erence as to the cause 
of the war, it will not justify any government to per- 
secute the prisoners ; to retaliate upon a man that has 
surrendered everything- himself and said, "I am sub- 
ject to your command," is cowardly. He should be fed 
and treated within the bounds of reason. 

The North has the history of Andersonville and 
other prisons of the South ; they have a most inhuman 
history of the terrible scourging at Andersonville. I 
wish it known that I do not approve of such inhuman 
treatment, whether to an enemy or not. A prisoner is 
subject to your command; a great responsibility rests 
upon the captor from a humane standpoint. I l)clieve 
God will avenge the misuse of a prisoner. 

There was President Davis, at Fortress Monroe, 
under the command of General Miles, who was com- 
pelled to get down and suffer himself to be chained ; 
but he was perfectly submissive. If General Miles 
had seen anything in the actions of President Davis 
that were not such as those of a prisoner of war should 
be, he would have had a perfect right to punish him 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 61 

for disobedience, (jcneral Miles executed the order 
received from his government. 

Suppose General Miles had taken occasion to step 
up and kick President Davis and abuse him severely. 
Don't you know^ he should have, and probably would 
have, l:)een severely punished. When his orders were 
executed he had no further power. 

Those negroes at Point Lookout took the law into 
their own hands and satisfied their ambition to kick 
or knock down tlie Confederate soldiers, who were 
white men, and to say anything they desired in the 
way of rebuke. I thought to myself, "If I am ever 
permitted to get back to Georgia again I will kill six 
negroes. I have never killed any one yet, and hope 
I never will be compelled to kill any one. Those ne- 
groes up there were desperately vicious. We have 
very few like them down here ; I have never met 
with one of the kind here in the South ; if I do, on 
slight provocation I will do my best to kill one. I 
think our negroes here do very well, considering all 
things. 



BOOK THREE 



Closing Incidents of the Terrible Four Years — The 
Return Home — Several Bits of Human Nature. 



I don't wish to exaggerate aljout the body pest. 
The old soldier knows whereof I speak. That was 
one reason we could not get a good night's rest in 
the army. I washed my clothes every day; I did 
my best to keep clean. There were all kinds of men 
there, rich and poor, though you never saw any dif- 
ference there ; they were all the same so far as wealth 
was concerned. I saw a good many going around with 
their shirt collar and sleeves unbuttoned, their necks 
and wrists bloody where they had been bitten. I 
have thought of the great pest of Pharaoh, the pest 
of frogs and flies, but I don't think they were any 
greater than the body pest at Point Lookout, be- 
cause that pest lasted four years ; you could see them 
crawling over the prisoners, they were on the ground, 
on the tents, on the pumps, the dining room, and 
everywhere you looked. 

Just think about it a minute; lying there sick, not 
able to help yourself, not able to get water and 
scarcely anything to eat ; lie there until you were 
nearly dead, and then maybe they would take you to 
the hospital and maybe you would die the next day. 
That pest was awful to think about. You were com- 
pelled to sleep by the force of nature ; and when you 
awoke you would get good exercise for a few minutes. 
Everywhere you looked you would see the greatest 
woe and misery. You could hear the boys at all times 
in the night cursing those pests. The white oflicers 
would not come near the prison walls. The doctors 
would redress every time they visited the sick, and 

(62) 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 63 

the}- made (Hily one visit a day. and that a very short 
one. 

Think of the - reat evils of warfare ; great responsi- 
bilitv rests upon the leaders. The ones that insti- 
gated the war never fired a gun, hardly heard a shell. 

I saw in that prison the greatest hunger. I hope 
I will never witness the like again. There were men 
there, as I have said, making money, had been there 
three or four years, who didn't care to go back or be 
exchanged from prison. They gambled all the time. 
They could get fresh hsh, oysters or anything else 
thev desired to eat. They were looked upon as 
trusties. The negro guards would furnish most any- 
thing for money. 

On one occasion those negroes furnished these men 
bountifully with a great many sorts of food. They 
had them' all packed away very nicely. Our boys 
charged in, took all they had packed away, then forced 
the men out, took their money, forced them to s\'.!;n 
another order, then gave the order to the negro they 
had been doing business with. The negroes came 
up with all the bill of rations. They then forced them 
to settle the bill, the negro received his money and 
returned to his post. Well, the boys gave him orders 
to get out, and if he ever said anything to that negro 
or to any one else, they would take his life on the 
spot. He went out. 

[ saw men go around the tents, pick up hsh bones 
or any kind of bone thrown away, and beat them up 
hne, empty the bones in a tin cup with water in it, 
let it stand awhile and then drink it. 1 even saw sick 
men at this. They drank gruel made of cold water. 
Piy this the prisoners were getting very thin and lean. 

It seemed to me that since I was brought to the 
place T had no love or sympathy for anything. I cared 
for nothing; all I cared about was something to eat 
and water to drink. I am satisfied that for weeks I 
thought of nothing but something to eat and water 
to drink. \\'e never noticed the other fellow. All we 
could do was to go round and round. 

About July I, 1865, the rations were reduced again. 



64 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

The men would go to the gate and beg for bread, "Give 
us bread, please bring us the bread." 

On July lo, 1865, a great many of the boys went 
out on oath. Everybody all over the South, prisoners 
and all, took that oath. I just thought if I could get 
plenty of something to eat and water to drink I would 
stay there all my life. They called our names alpha- 
betically. They commenced at A and went down to E. 
They then began at Z and went back up to E. AVhen 
my name was called there were just a few in the prison. 
Nearly all had gone home. 

I can look back and see that we all underwent a 
change in mind, in body and everything. We were in 
the condition that we had just as soon take a man's 
life as to look at him. 

One day a prisoner went out to cut wood. He came 
back with a willow limb full of green leaves. You 
never saw such a demonstration as was made over 
that willow limb. It had been so long since we had 
seen anything green. We never looked for anything 
except for the bread to come in at the gate. We could 
see nothing except the prisoners, the negroes and the 
waters of the Chesapeake. 

Out of Prison. 

But thank God our time had come to go out. A\'e 
had been punished severely, mentally and physically. 
We could hardly realize we were going home. "Is it 
possible we are preparing to leave this hell." 

One day about noon I heard some one call my name. 
I never listened to find out from what state. I had 
nothine to pack up ; all I had was on my back. The 
negro guard came out the gate Avith us. I stepped 
into the office of the commandant. 

"Wnat is your name, sir?" 

''J- F- Edwards, sir." 

"What state?" 

"Georgia." 

"Here, guard, take this man around there to the 
prison lockup. I have a good mind to punish you se- 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 65 

\crclv, irvini;- t(^ defraud the next man. 1 called 
I. Iv I'.dwards from Xortli Carolina. Here you come 
from deorj^ia. Now \-ou see wliat you ,L;et." 

'"Well, I answered to llie name of j. \\ Ivlwards ; that 
was all 1 heard." 

"You're a damn liar." And then to tlie guard, "Did 
vou tell this man J. F. Edwards from GeoriL^ia?" 

"Xo. sir, I said from North Carolina." 

"Tliat settles the matter," said the officer. 

"Will you please give me your name and address?" 
He refused. "You have all the advantage, at this 
time; I hope I will see you again, sir." 

AI)out that time the colonel commanding came in. 
"\\'hat are you all holding this man here so long 
about? Now you get out from here; I was of a mind 
to dismiss you yesterday." He did as he was ordered. 
He kept looking back nodding his head. I gave him 
the wink. I stood there waiting for my doom. About 
that time the brother of the officer that was discharged 
came in. He was almost as mad as I was. 

"Colonel, I think you have violated the rules of this 
post," he said. 

"You may consider yourself under arrest. I am tlie 
commander of this post. Guard, take this man to the 
marshal's court room." 

I was beginning to get a little nervous. The Colonel 
said, "Guard, go and tell the Major to come here 
quick." He came right in. 

"T want you to get here and deliver the oath to the 
men here in a hurry." 

"All right, sir." 

He turned to me, "Wiiat's vour name, sir?'' 

"J. F. Edwards." 

"What state?" 

"Georgia." 

"A\'hat regiment and compan}?" 

I told him. 

"Are you ready to take the amnestv oath to the 
United States?" 

"Yes, sir, T am." 

5 ED 



66 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

"You Speak like you are glad of the opportunity." 

"Anywhere else, but here," I replied. He and the 
Colonel laughed very heartily. 

I was standing there in my shirt and pants, nothing 
else. "Your clothing seems to be torn very badly. 
Colonel, see what an American soldier will do for his 
country." 

The Colonel replied, "Better soldiers never lived 
than the Confederate soldiers." 

"Hereafter we will forever fight together, if neces 
sary," the Major said. 

"The Major and mvself are from ^Maryland ; those 
men I discharged are from Massachusetts, real haters 
of the South. My brother served as Captain of the 
Maryland Artillery in the Confederate artillery." 

"One-half of them were killed," I said. 

"Very few escaped. I served in the Federal army. 
Now, gentlemen, I hope you will all get home safely." 

"Thank you, gentlemen." 

My friends, my feelings towards the first officer are 
beyond your conception. I could have killed him 
and burned him. 

Just think of the great difi:'erence in those three men. 
And what a mean heart that first officer had — was 
going to send me to the prison house because of a mis- 
take in answering to my name. He paid no attention 
to what I said. If that oath had been taken before we 
had that little difficulty, I think I would have sent 
him home. He had all the advantage of me ; I was 
still a prisoner ; he provoked me all that he could. I 
was tempted to strike him anyway. He saw I was 
holding up very well. The next man never questioned 
me in any way, only Avhere I was from. I decided 
if the guard said anything to me about that mistake, 
I was determined to hit him in the mouth. I found 
he was somewhat shy of me. The other boys were 
very calm, but I was mad when he called me a damned 
lie; he was outside of his bounds. And then, too, 
those mean negroes had been cursing me, but I was 
so overjoyed at being released from that hole, that 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 67 

fool had to take a kick at mc. Still, I suppose all things 
worked for the best for me. 

I had been in prison nearly six months after the 
surrender. We all drew our rations, two pounds of 
pickled pork and two very large pones of corn bread. 
I sat right down by a large stump and started to eat- 
ing my bread and meat. I ate every piece of it before 
I arose. Before 1 finished, two negroes came along. 
They looked at me, and one of them said : 
"Look at the damn fool killing himself.'' 
The other one said, "Let him go to hell." 
I was compelled to take it, they had their guns and 
I had nothing to defend myself except that bread and 
meat. When I had finished I felt stronger. I drank 
a great draught of water. I hardly thought where I 
w^as going, except to get away from that place ; there 
was plenty of time to think of my course after I got 
started. I felt good ; you can never realize how I felt. 
\\'e boys that were there will never be able to tell our 
feelings at that time. 

The time to get aboard the vessel was four o'clock 
in the afternoon. The vessel was crowded. Tw^o of 
the boys and myself decided to wait until eight o'clock 
the next morning. 

Bound for Home, Sweet Home. 

I can never express my feelings as I went aboard 
that vessel. I went on deck where I could see the 
green briars and the pretty woods along the banks 
of the Potomac. I had never had such a glad heart, 
besides all this pretty view, and we were going home. 
One of the boys that was in the company with me 
just yelled at the top of his voice. "How do I feel! 
Ho, I will see my mother again." We three together 
were rejoicing that we had gained the greatest vic- 
tory of the war, that we had escaped from that terri- 
ble prison, Point Lookout, Delaware. 

Now, after forty-five years have passed, I cannot 
hold back the strongest emotions while I am writing 
in my blundering way. If I desire to tell anything 
of my feelings, it was when I was going down the 
pretty waters of the Chesapeake. I could hardly real- 



68 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

ize that the war was over until I was released from 
that terrible place. You will never know what our 
boys suffered at that terrible prison. I wish that I had 
command of language sufficient to write that you 
might understand what the boys suffered there. Be- 
fore I was released from that prison, it seemed that 
tne days and nights were all the same; it seemed that 
the sun shone "no brighter than the moon. I felt 
that my life was nothing but misery and woe ; that I 
would never meet another friend. My whole thought 
was, just give me something to eat and drink and I 
would spend my life there. No one but those who 
were there will ever know what our eyes saw and 
what our hearts felt. Our heart, soul and body 
would plead to be released from that place. The 
prayers that went up from that prison were from 
the heart. If I ever prayed, it was at Point Lookout, 
and nothing but the mercy of our Lord released us 
alive from that prison. 

When I left that prison, I felt that I was tne happi- 
est boy that ever breathed the air of Heaven and of 
freedom. No one can appreciate the life of a free 
man, unless he has l)een in prison. A free man is a 
privileged character! he has the same right as any 
other man; he can go to church and worship the liv- 
ing God, or worship Him under his own vine and 
fig tree ; the right to do a legitimate business any- 
where in this broad land. He enjoys the greatest free- 
dom that belongs to any man in the world. 

And I thought to myself, I am a free man, have 
a perfect right to defend myself anywhere against 
anything; our laws will give me justice; if you are 
imposed upon, our laws will protect you ; our laws 
will protect you finanically and politically, protect 
you in all your liberties. I have been in a place where 
I could say, "If I owned the whole state of Georgia, 
legally, had a perfect right to deed it away, I w^^uld 
have p-iven the whole state to be released from that 
prison at Point Lookout, Delaware, and let me go 
free, get away from there, proclaim once more that 
I was a free man. 1 here is no word in the Eno-lish 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 69 

languag-e, or any other, lliat will compare with the 
word freedom. 

When I had taken the oath to i)rotect and defend 
the Union and the Constitution of the United States, 
the officer said, "You are a free man." Those \vords 
ring- in my ears yet. AMien you hear the deadly 
sounds of the great cannons of our lines and also 
from those of the enemy, sounds on the right and 
on the left, and maybe in the center, men will cry 
for peace, for freedom; will cry for water, but there 
is no water; will cry for bread, but there is no bread. 
I feel it to be a great honor to say we, the we indicates 
that I was there, that I served my country together 
with them, that I know the secret that will never 
be told, only felt by the old soldiers; Generals Lee, 
Tackson, Johnson, Hill, Gordon, Longstreet, Hood 
and all of the heroes died with that secret in their 
bosom ; and it will never be told. 

We sailed on down the beautiful waters of the 
Chesapeake, very quiet and still. Every now and then 
the boys would holler out, "W'here are you going?" 
and w^ould receive the answer, ''I am going home, 
home, sweet home, the sweetest place on earth, home, 
sweet home." The boys would slip up behind me and 
say, "Where are you going?" ''W^e are going home 
to see our sweet mothers." How good we felt. 

Even now I can hardly restrain my feelings while 
I write. It all seems to appear to me now as it did 
that day forty-five vears ago. T can still rejoice in 
that day, moving over the smooth waters, a free 
man. Can you rejoice with me for awhile? T feel like 
you do. That was a great day \vith us when we 
could say, ''We are free men." 

There were three of us together, none over twenty- 
one years of age. We were together in prison, to- 
gether when the oath was administered, together when 
w^e were made free, together on the journey home. 

We sailed on to the deep blue waters of the Atlantic. 
Nothing but water, water everywhere. \\'e are free, 
that clothed our body, clothed our minds, and, the 
best of all, clothed our hearts. \\> felt that we were 



70 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

just as good as any man on earth. I felt like the 
hairs of my head were reaching out and giving praise 
to God for his goodness and mercy towards us, not- 
withstanding it hadn't been trimmed in about twelve 
months. I am satisfied we felt a great deal better 
than we looked. We could not endure it for any 
one to stand and gaze just like they had never seen 
anything. 

The next morning a great storm was raging around 
Cape Hatteras. You know it is dangerous water 
around that point. A great many soldiers lost their 
lives only about twenty-five miles ahead of our ves- 
sel ; the boiler exploded, no one saved but the cap- 
tain. He held on to a piece of the vessel until some 
of our crew picked him up. He had been in the water 
about forty minutes when the pilot on our boat dis- 
covered him. A\> were very sick when we struck 
that rough water around Cape Hatteras, the most 
dangerous on the Atlantic coast. 

One of the boys that was with me was from Mo- 
bile, Ala., and the other was from New Orleans, La. 
They were splendid fellows. Neither one of us had 
hats or shoes. A shirt and a pair of pants was our 
suit. If any one had offered to buy our suit they 
could have never gotten it. No one offered to assist 
us in any way. A\> soon steamed out of the rough 
water. We were out of the storm and once again 
steaming over the smooth waters of the great At- 
lantic. It seemed to me I was a marine on the ocean 
of freedom. When the sun and the moon rose, as it 
seemed, from out of the water, it was all I could do 
to restrain myself. It seemed that all the world was 
bright and lovely to my soul. The rays of the sun 
and of the moon were freedom as they gave light to 
the vessel and to the world. We thought of nothing, 
cared for nothing, except that we were free. O, long 
may the flag of freedom wave for all mankind. When 
I think today of that lonely spot, the old prison, I 
desire to exclaim, "Thank the Lord for freedom." 

We were bound for Charleston, South Carolina, and 
about the 8th of Septem1)er, 1865, we landed, at about 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 71 

three o'clock in the morning-. The people came down 
like they had ne\er seen any one before. Five or six 
came down the street together and shouted, "Hello, 
what stragglers are you?" One of the boys caught 
liim in the collar and 1 ga\e him a slap in the face. 
They left us in a hurry. We could not stand any 
insinuations ; everybod}- had to attend to his own 
business. \\> met a good many that asked, "Where 
are you going-?" and they invariably got the reply, 
"None of your business." 

Out in the suburbs of Charleston we met a man 
who said, "WHiere are you going?" and lie received 
the usual reply of "None of your business." He 
turned around and looked as if he didn't like it ; one 
of the boys slapped him on the head, and he left. 

Charleston showed the effects of the war. Most 
of the machinery was destroyed. We met one polite 
old gentleman who passed close by us and said, 
"Good morning, boys; had your breakfast this morn- 
ing?" 

"Yes, sir, thank you." 

"May the Lord bless you." 

One of the boys said he had already done his part. 
He snatched us out of hell. The old man asked us 
to tell him about that place. 

"I never heard from that place before; I never saw- 
any one from there before. Give me all the informa- 
tion you can concerning that terrible place." 

One of the boys said, "Don't intend to go there, 
do you? It isn't a great ways from here." 

"T have been living seventy-hve years and I never 
knew I was close by it." 

"1 can't tell }'ou just where to find that place. A\'e 
are just from there. If you desire to go there, we will 
tell you all about the place; all about the big gate 
you go in. The Bible tells you about the broad way." 

"Yes, but I never heard of that gate before. But 
if you are just from there. I will take your word for 
it. I am not making any preparations to go there 
at all. As I said at first, you boys are the only human 
beings that I have met from there. I was incpiiring 



72 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

from curiosity so I would be able to give definite 
information to any one inquiring- about the place.'' 

"Well, as we are in a hurry, Ave will tell you where 
we have been. A\> have been to Point Lookout, Del- 
aware. We have been there ever since the surrender ; 
have just been released." 

"I have a grandson that was released just one week 
ago from that place. If you will remain here, I will 
go and bring him right up." 

"All right, we will be very glad to meet him." 

The old man soon brought the boy back. He 
seemed to be very cheerful indeed. He was among 
his friends. He moved his pants up a little above 
his shoes and showed us a gun shot wound received 
from those negroes while asleep in his tent. 

I know we looked pretty tough going along the 
public highway — no hat, in our bare feet, with our 
hair long and uncombed, and our hands and faces 
tanned by long exposure; we were very much the 
color of an Indian. The railroads were not running 
any trains, and we started home afoot. We began 
our march through the country for home. A\> drew 
rations from the government in Charleston, hard tack 
and pickled pork, which we thought was very fine. 
Wg had drawn our rations on the boat regularly, 
but I wasn't hungry for three days after I ate that 
two pounds of meat and two pones of cornbread at 
the prison. 

All through the country everything was deserted 
and lonely ; we saw very few people on our route. 
AA> traveled about twenty miles a day. Not being 
acquainted with the country, we often took the wrong 
road, but we did not care for that, just so we were 
going to Atlanta and home. Although we were 
ragged, bareheaded and barefooted, we enjoyed that 
trip. We cared for no one and no one cared for us. 
We went in a sort of "happy-go-lucky-kind-of-wav." 

We were walking alon"^ just outside of Charleston 
and met some girls who had been out riding. One 
of the boys said, "That is my girl." They all stop])ed, 
and one of them said, "What did you say?" 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 73 

"You are my girl," he replied. 

"Where are you from?" 

"We are from Point Lookout prison.'' 

"Have you all l)een in prison?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"I am very sorry, indeed, for you all. \o\v, tell me. 
where is your home?" 

"In New Orleans, Louisiana." 

"\\>11, when vou i^et home, if 1 liear from vou, 1 
will." 

"All rii^ht, 1 will write vou sure." 

"You must j^et a new suit." 

"All right. "^ 

"Here is my address," and she wrote her name and 
address on a piece of paper. 

"Yes, ma'am." We all stood to one side and let 
them talk. I never said anything at all. They were 
the only girls we met between Charleston and the 
Savannah river. The young lady was very sympa- 
thetic and also very pretty. My boy said he was 
going to write to her sure. 

Xow and then one of the boys would holler out, 
"Wliere are you going, Frank?" and I would tell him. 
''Happy day, going home." 

One afternoon, about four o'clock, we went out in 
the woods and camped close by a spring, one of those 
good old springs. And that water! I can taste it 
yet. It had a good old-time taste; you all know I 
am not talking about whiskey, but the water from 
that spring. 

Let me tell you a little story about one of the boys. 
He slipped out one night, went out about a mile, 
struck up with an old soldier, told him where he was 
from, and also told him, "I would like to get a little 
toddy; I have no money, l)ut I want just a little to 
see how it tastes." 

"All right ; I have a little apple jack, if you like it." 

"Yes, sir, 1 sure would." 

Well, he gave him one pint, which was very fine. 
\\> discovered that he was gone, and thought we 
had lost our partner sure. In a few minutes he came 



74 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

back. He did not touch a drop until he entered the 
camp. He was the proudest fellow you ever saw. 

"My friends, 1 think you all will excuse me under 
the circumstances." We all drank a very small drink. 
W^e ate our supper and felt better. We sat up late 
that night, talking-, laughing and having a good time. 

Reckon we must have disturbed some of the quiet 
fellows that night. About ten o'clock we heard some 
one say, "Who is that out there keeping up such a 
disturbance?" 

"You come out and talk to gentlemen." 

"No, I don't care for tramps." 

One of the boys picked up a rock and threw to- 
wards him, but did not touch him. We heard no more 
from him. 

We slept splendidly that night. We used two old 
pieces of blankets which we had picked up in Charles- 
ton ; these we spread down on the ground and rested 
much better than we did at the place from whence 
we came. 

The greatest reason the people never paid any at- 
tention to us was because we looked so bad. But we 
were just as independent as anybody, ^^^e had been 
dependent, but we felt that that day was passed for 
us. We were not looking for anything but home, 
sweet home. A\ e were free men. We were free, and 
that was worth more than all. 

You force a man under bondage and keep him there. 
\Mien he gets out, he is the man who will enjoy free- 
dom, more especially if he was treated like a brute. 

The next morning, about sunrise, we folded our 
blankets, got our little l)reakfast ready and sat down. 
The meat was raw, no coffee, nothing but raw meat 
and hard tack. The boy that had been out the night 
before said, "Boys, here is a little apple jack." \\'e 
were soon on our journey. W^e missed our course in 
some way ; we passed through a little place called 
Ashland, S. C about the fifth day ; there we drew 
rations again — the same old sort. 

We struck the Savannah river; there we camped 
for the night. A\^e did not stay u]i late tliat niglu. 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 75 

( )ur feet were gettiiii^- \ery sore and we could liardly 
walk. The next morning we took our last toddy, ate 
breakfast and started on. \\> were a little bothered 
about getting over the river. At last we ran upon 
a little boat. No one knew hcnv to use a paddle but 
mc, and 1 hardly had sufficient strength to use it. We 
managed to get across though. About the time we 
landed, an old negro walked up and said, ''Hello, my 
young ge'mmen, if you'se had waited just a little, 
I'd set yer cross for nothing. I live right up dar ; if 
you'll go with me, I gib you the best old nigger ash 
cake you eber eat in yer life. My old 'oman just 
took it out de ashes." 

I said, "All right." We felt — well, I don't know 
how we felt — that was the first negro we had had 
anything to do with since w^e left the prison. He 
was an old Georgia negro. But kindness controls the 
world. Couldn't we be a little more kind to our par- 
ents and to all the family and our friends? The ne- 
gro was our greatest enemy at Point Lookout. We 
said when we left that prison we could never notice 
another negro. But that old negro, I believe, had a 
good heart. We were his bitter enemies, but he 
caught all three of us by that kind act of his. His 
was the first kind act wt saw from a negro after we 
got out of prison. That old negro gave us old-time 
ash cake and buttermilk, and you know that is pretty 
hard to get around any time, and we were tired and 
hungry. When we had finished that one of the boys 
said, "If I had fifty dollars, I would give it to you for 
this act of kindness." \Yq bade the old negro and his 
wife farewell. 

We were now in Georgia — Georgia, the grandest 
old state in the Union ; thank God we were in Georgia. 

We were just from suffering the greatest afflictions 
in the world, the worst that could be inflicted upon 
a man, hungry and thirsty, suffering from the body 
])est, the insolence of the negro guard at the prison 
and a thousand other things we can not describe. I 
wish I had language sufficient, or could control your 
minds, to cause you to read this in a spirit of remem- 



76 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

brance, in a spirit of sympathy and of good will, and 
not in a spirit of prejudice, not for myself alone, but 
for the private soldier of the Confederacy ; he who 
stood when the world seemed to be on fire, who stood 
where he Avas ordered to stand, and who stood at 
Petersburg until he was ordered away by our beloved 
general, Robert E. Lee. 

I wish I had w^ords at my command that I might 
write the love and afifection in which General Lee was 
held by his men. You old soldiers, I know how you 
feel about it sometimes ; you feel that your great af- 
flictions, your great suffering mentally and physic- 
ally were without avail, that a few have received the 
honor, that the private soldier has not received the 
honor which is due, but it is only at times that we 
feel that way, for it is honor enough for any man to 
have it said, ''He w^as a Confederate soldier." AMien 
General Lee receives honor in the Hall of Fame, not 
only in this country, but in all the world, I, too, feel 
honored. All the world honors the Old Guard of 
Napoleon ; admires the bravery of the daring men 
who made the world-famous charge at Balaklava ; 
but we, w^ho fought under Lee, were as good soldiers 
as the world ever saw. The historians of the North, 
of the world, give honor to the bravery, endurance 
and fighting qualities of the Confederate soldier. 
General Lee is classed as among the world's great- 
est generals, and we fought with him, and the fame 
of General Lee and that of the Confederate soldier 
will endure as long as there is history and interest 
in such things. 

Just so long as I live in this Southern land, and so 
long as General Lee is honored, L too, feel honored. 
My comrades and friends, you ma}^ not feel as I feel, 
but I can not restrain my emotions as I write ; every 
stroke of the pen is from my heart. The greatest 
honor that the Confederate soldier has today is that 
he is a Confederate soldier and that General R. E. 
Lee was our commander. Just so long as General 
Lee is given the honor of a great general, just so long 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 77 

will I feel honored as a private Confederate soldier 
of the Confederate army. 

The i^reatest trial of my life was when I was a 
prisoner. I have tried to give you a description of 
my life there, and how we felt somewhat degraded 
when we were free men. When we left the boats at 
Charleston, we felt like we were not looked upon as 
gentlemen. I felt like our friends were very scarce 
indeed. While we were on our way to our loved 
ones, we felt that we should have received more hos- 
pitality and sympathy of the people of that city. I 
know we looked worse than any set of prisoners that 
ever walked the streets of Charleston, looked more 
dependent than any soldier in Charleston, but we 
were on our way home, and were glad. 

I expect that we traveled a considerable distance 
out of the way from Charleston to Atlanta, not know- 
ing the route. And can you imagine how I felt when 
we landed on the west side of the Savannah river, in 
Georgia? W^e were thankful that we were blessed 
and free. Even the woods and the old pine fields 
looked good. 

After one day's march from the Saxannah, our feet 
being sore, we decided to rest one day. We went out 
in the woods about fifty yards, brushed up the leaves 
into a pile, and, resting on them, we felt refreshed 
and much better. Al^out four o'clock in tlie after- 
noon we saw two or three men going along the road 
with p-uns on their shoulders. They discovered that 
somebody was out there in the woods, and asked us 
what we were doing out there. W^e replied, "None 
of your business." They walked on out to where we 
were. A\> had a splendid stick each. Just before 
they reached us we got up and addressed them. "Gen- 
tlemen, please return to your own places of business 
or you will regret it. We came out here to rest." 

"Tell us where you are from." 

"Don't mean to give you a short answer, but we 
are just from hell," They laughed. 

One of the bovs said, "What are vou doin"- with 



78 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

*'We are after a negro that killed this man's wife 
this morning-." 

''Don't try to take him at all ; if you find him, just 
shoot him down and go on." 

"He came out this way," one of the fellows said. 

"I saw some one go in that old house right over 
there, on the hill, as we came up," I told them. 

"Yes, I expect he is the man we are hunting." 

They left ; went over to the house and caught the 
negro,' though he was shot and wounded first. We 
fell over on our pallets and went to sleep. We rested 
at that place that night. The sun rose the next morn- 
ing very clear and pretty. It was very dry all through 
the country from Charleston to where we were. We 
ate our hard tack and pickled pork. We longed for 
a good cup of cofifee that morning — but, needless to 
say, we didn't get it. 

Our feet were in a terrible condition ; we could 
hardly travel. We only traveled twelve miles that 
dav. We were going by Washington, from which 
place we could take the railroad to Atlanta. We met 
up with several people who wanted to know where 
we were going. We told them we were going home. 

"Where is your home?" 

"Atlanta, Mobile and New Orleans." 

About sunset we stopped in a pine grove. Our 
feet were very sore and our faces simburned. We 
ate our raw meat and hard tack. We sure enjoyed 
our meals and the good water. That night we heard 
something like dancing. We decided we would step 
out on the hill and see ; and sure enough it was danc- 
ing. We decided we would go up and see them 
dance. It was a very nice home indeed. Two violins 
were making splendid music. It was all I could do 
to keep from hollering out, "All promenade." We 
did not go up very close. Our feet were very sore, 
but we knocked a little dust and "cut the pigeon 
wing" a little anyway. 

That was the most touching of anything we had 
come in contact with ; it seemed so much like old 
times. My boys would holler out, "Frank, where are 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 79 

you going?" "Going home, thank God." And every- 
l:)ody would laugh. A\> were feeling good while they 
danced : two old-time cotillions going on. I think we 
were enjoying the dance better than those in the 
house. I played the violin myself at home. They 
struck up one of the old pieces I used to play. I 
jumped up and yelled. The boys laughed. It was 
strange they did not discover us while we were mak- 
ing so much noise. The dogs discovered us first. 
We retired to our camping place and had a good 
night's rest. We ate our hard tack and raw meat the 
next morning and started on our journey. 

About noon, Septeml)er 23, 1865, we arrived at little 
Washington, ^^^ilkes county, Georgia. We drew our 
three days' rations and went out to the train. They 
told us the train would move out at three o'clock 
that afternoon. We looked around and found a good 
place to rest. People would look at us in astonish- 
ment. ^^> were as indifferent as any man in the 
town. One fellow came around and asked us where 
we were from. We told him just anywhere. 

"You expect to take that train?" 

"No, we expect the train to take us," one of the 
boys said. 

"Well, I thought you had better get your tickets." 

'A\> don't carry tickets, we go free." 

"You beat vour wav ?" 

"Yes." 

That fellow went out and told the conductor what 
we said. The conductor came to us. "Have you anv 
tickets?" 

"I never heard that question asked outside the car 
before. We are i^entlemen ; I want vou to understand 
that." 

"You can't get on the car until T get your tickets." 

"We don't wish to have any difficulty with vou. 
Is that your rule, sir, to call for the tickets before' the 
people get a])oard ?" 

"Xo, sir." 

"Well, we are going on tha^ train to Atlanta." 



80 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

''I understand you said you expected to ride free." 

"I say so yet, sir," 

"Well, we will see about that, sir." 

"All right. Come on boys." We went right in and 
took our seats. In about five minutes the conductor 
came along with the sheriff. The sheriff came to me. 
"Have you a ticket?" 

"Yes, sir." I took out my free transportation from 
Uncle Sam. He read it. 

"You have as much right on this train as any man 
in the state of Georgia. That isn't all ; I am going to 
see that you go on this train." A good many of the 
people expected some difficulty. When the conduc- 
tor passed through, he never turned his head. Wq 
were in the greatest glee. 

"Frank, where are you going?" 

"Going home." 

The train was very much crowded. I said, "Boys, 
I expect to raise some one's hat before I go much 
further." I was looking out for an opportunity to 
grab a hat. I was determined to grab a hat before 
I left Atlanta. The whistle blew for Atlanta, our 
home city. How often during the past years I had 
thought of Atlanta, Georgia. I had sure been around 
the world in warfare. When we pulled under the 
old carshed, I can't describe my feelings. When I 
looked out I saw nothing but the skeleton, the ashes 
of our beloved city of Atlanta. We learned the West 
Point train would not leave until the next morning. 
I looked about the city and saw the long letters, the 
old "Trout House" — it had been burned. I thought 
of the misery the war had caused to leave it like this ; 
the city had almost been swept off the map. A\> all 
loved Atlanta. When I bade Atlanta farewell in 
August, '6i, I left it well clad, well fed and everything 
in good shape. I thought of the great change in both 
Atlanta and myself from '6i to '65. I came back with 
no hat or shoes, just an old dirty shirt and pants. But 
I could at least thank God that I was a free man. 
out from under the terril)le negro rule at Point Look- 
out. 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 81 

In walkin*;- al)out, we came up to where some mer- 
chants were weighing some kind of boxes. We said 
we would like to see how much we weighed. They 
said all right. My average weight was about one 
hundred and fifty pounds; my weight tlien was one 
hundred and four. 

Atlanta was crowded with soldiers all the time, and 
we attracted but little attention. We stepped up 
on a little platform and ate our hard tack and raw- 
meat. 1 knew no one there and looked for no one. 
We didn't care to walk about much, our feet were in 
such a condition. \\"e decided we would lie down and 
rest. W^e did not wake up until the next morning 
about four o'clock. *'Boys, you all sleep there last 
night?" No reply was made to the question. The 
next morning we seemed to be very conspicuous ; 
the people would stand and gaze at us. lUit we w^ere 
feeling better, I have no doubt, than most any one in 
the city, because we were going home after a long 
absence. 

I was still tliinking about that hat. I told the boys 
I would never leave Atlanta w^ithout something to 
go on my head, even if it was a bonnet. \\> ate break- 
fast and went out to the train. W^e saw^ it was so 
crowded, we decided to go out on the freight. The 
conductor passed by us and said, "Boys, I bet you 
are from prison." 

"Sure, we are." 

"\Miat prison?" 

"Point Lookout." 

"I wish I had known that sooner. You go and get 
on the train and T wnll take you anywdiere." 

"Ca])tain, we are in too bad shape to go where 
there are so many nice ladies." 

"You follow me." We went. We got into the 
car and the conductor walked up to some gentlemen 
and said, "Gentlemen, I want these seats vacated." 
They went into another car. 

"You occupy those two seats. I feel honored to 
carry you anywhere I go." He turned to the ladies 
and said, "Here are three gentlemen just from Point 

6 ED 



82 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

Lookout Prison, Delaware ; no hat, no shoes ; they 
certainly show from their looks that they have suf- 
fered. They suffered for you and for me, for our 
land and country." He took his hat from his head 
and placed it on one of the boys' head. "Take this 
and remember me," he said. "Time is up, we have 
got to go." By that time everybody in the car was 
in tears. I saw my opportunity to get a hat. An old 
negro was coming up towards the car, selling cakes. 
I was sitting at the window. Just as he reached the 
window, I reached out, took his hat from his head and 
placed it on my own. The old negro jumped and hol- 
lered for the police. The conductor saw it all. He 
moved his train up at once ; he must have put on all 
the steam he had. Poor old negro ! I was almost 
compelled to have that hat. x\ll the ladies on the 
car were in tears, but when I reached dow^n and took 
that hat, you never heard such cheering. I never saw 
a crowd so amused in my life. A great many of them 
were watching me when I took the old negro's hat. 
The boys knew I was up to something. I was de- 
termined to have a hat in some way. If Governor 
Brown had been close by, I would have taken his hat 
as quickly as I did the old darkey's ; it would have 
made no difference with we — I wanted a hat. 

Some one told me that General Gordon saw me 
take the hat. When he w^as in the race for Governor, 
Major A. D. Abraham and he stopped with me for a 
short time, on their way to Franklin. 

"General, I understand 3^ou saw that hat raised from 
an old negro's head in Atlanta." 

"Yes, sir, I saw that. I was standing al)out thirty 
steps from that train." 

"Well, General, I am the boy that took the hat." 
I had heard General Gordon holler a great many times 
at the front in the army, but 1 had never heard him 
laugh as loud as he did then. He and Major Abrahani 
both enjoyed my relating the circumstance. 

"I only caught a glimpse of the soldier, but I saw 
the hat go in at the window. I also saw the negro 
trying to get in at the window to get his hat. We all 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 83 

laui^hed very heartily at tlie negro. lUit 1 knew if 
that soldier was one of my boys, he would never get 
the hat. That incident is worth relating, and I am 
goings to tell it." 1 never heard whether he got it in 
the newspapers as one of the war jokes or not. 

Well, one of the boys was without a hat. One of 
them had the conductor's and I had the old negro's. 

Just look at the difference in conductors. The one 
at Washington l)arked up the wrong tree. He hadn't 
lived long enough to learn some things. The con- 
ductor on the West Point road was a gentleman with 
a heart as big as a mule. We will never forget that 
man. His actions proved just what he was. 

Down to Hogansville. Here my boys and I sepa- 
rate. My good friends, made in prison ; we were 
together the whole time in prison and all the way. 
home. All three were without shoes, and one 
of them was still without a hat. 

*'T will give you my negro hat, if you will accept it." 

*'Xo, you wear that hat home." 

1 bade the boys farewell, ^^'e parted in tears. 
How strong are the ties of genuine friendship. The 
friendship that springs up between men who have 
had all things in common ; who have had the sorrows 
and the joys of life together. \\^ould that there was 
more such friendship in the world. I kept up a cor- 
respondence with my good friends for a number of 
years. I wc^tuld be very glad indeed to see them again. 

I was off the train at the town nearest home. My 
feet were very sore, Init I did not grumble; I was 
nearing home. It was (^nly twelve miles away. I 
had not met any friends yet. 1 started out to 'walk 
to my home on the Chattahoochee river. I cut two 
good walking sticks, one for each hand. T felt all 
right about that negro hat; it was almost new. 

About half way home, T became very thirsty. I 
stopped at a house and asked for water. The people 
looked somewhat frightened. They said there was no 
water. 

'"ihank you, ma'am. You have changed your well 
since 1 was here." 



84 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

"I never saw you before." 

"O yes, the last time T was here, I took dinner." 

"You." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Well, tell me your name." 

"I live just a short distance from you." 

"AVell, tell me who you are." 

"I live just on the other side of the river. I would 
like to rest just a short while." Xo one offered me 
a chair. I sat down on the door steps. 

"I don't know what to think; you have failed to 
give me your name." 

"My name is Frank Edwards." 

"Good Lord, are you telling me the truth?" 

I called one of the girls by name. They recognized 
me. The old lady and two of the girls grabbed me. 
I tell you that hug lasted me a good while. I began 
to think they were going to hold me ; they were my 
friends and neighbors. They were those that fill our 
hearts with joy. Sympathy was in all our hearts. 
We were looking and listening for the sympathy we 
craved. But instead we received the cold shoulder of 
our comrades, on our way from prison ; not only from 
our comrades, but from the best people of our country. 
We talked and felt that the people of our country 
never realized our condition. At the same time, we 
were feeling good ; thank God, we were free. 

I went on my journey and soon came to the ferry 
over the Chattahoochee river, my old playground. I 
could not hold back the emotions that welled up in 
my heart. There I met the same old darkey that had 
always kept the ferry. I stepped up close by him. 
I called him by his name. He never recognized me. 
I told him my name, and the old fellow embraced me. 

He said, "Where have you been? You look so bad 
and yellow, I hardly realize this is Frank. T am sorry 
for you." 

That sympathy of the old negro helped me a great 
deal. 

"Your mother will never know you unless you make 
yourself known. You don't look like the boy that left 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 85 

here four years ago. You are so poor and lean." I 
said 1 was^ feeling good, and was going home to see 
that good mother. 

It seemed to me 1 would never get home. It was 
three miles yet. My feet were very sore, and I only 
kept up with my sticks. I went through the woods; 
I did not care to meet any one. About four o'clock 
in the afternoon I arrived at home, the old home, 
sweet home. No one ever expected to see me again. 
They had been told by several parties that I had been 
killed at the battle of Petersburg. I am satisfied you 
can realize how I felt to some extent. Mother fainted 
two or three times. When she would look at me she 
would faint nearly every time. Xo one in the family 
recognized me at' all until I went to the well to get 
water. "This water drinks like old times." Then 
all the family knew me. I will let you suppose what 
happened next. I forgot al)out my feet right there. 

My mother always kept her knitting close by. That 
day she had her knitting in her hands. When she 
recognized me she threw her knitting away and it 
could not be found. One day about tw^elve months 
after, some one found the knitting up a tree, close 
by where she was sitting. It was indeed a happy day 
with me. 

Happy day, when I could bless God at home. I met 
my father, mother, brothers and sisters at home, and 
a great many of my friends. The girls came from all 
around home. I sat there very quietly, and had very 
little to say; they did all the talking. I could hardly 
realize that I was at home. Such a change in every- 
thing; even the conversation seemed different; yet, 
everyone seemed to be happy, talking and laughing. 
Mother would scream out once in awhile, "I am glad 
to see my poor boy again ; thank God I am permitted 
to see him again." 

"We will pass around the nigger hat," I said. "I 
raised that hat from a negro's head in Atlanta." My 
mother took the hat and washed it and dyed it with 
logwood dye, and put nice bands around it. She went 
out and got an old-time gourd, about the size of my 



86 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

head, and fixed it. The rim stood up all right, and 
fitted my head very nicely. An aunt of mine wove 
some nice gray cloth, a suit was made, and I was soon 
fixed up all right. I left a very nice pair of boots 
when I left for the war. I found them and shined 
them up, put on my nigger hat, and that new suit, 
and I tell you, I expect the boys around there felt a 
little envious. I really felt sorry for them, because 
all the girls in all directions wanted to go with the 
boy that wore the nigger hat. "Don't care where he 
lives or how he looks, I w^ant to meet him." The boys 
began to think I was going to monopolize the whole 
country. 

A great many people had cotton to sell. They were 
fortunate to have it ; it was bringing fifty cents per 
pound, in gold, and that counted money very fast. 
Well, a good many of the boys had cotton. They sold 
the cotton and began to buy fine horses and buggies. 
I just gave it uj). 1 had no cotton and not a dollar in 
my pocket. 

I began to think what could I do. My father had 
one very good mule, except that he limped in one of 
his hind feet. I found a saddle, but it had no girth. I 
fixed up an old rope girth. I had no bridle except an 
old plow bridle. 1 finally found some old cloth reins. 
I didn't much like my outfit. I decided to go to 
church on foot the next Sunday. Good gracious ! I 
found out that all the girls in the neighborhood were 
coming over to take me to church, all on horseback. 
I was bothered again. About ten o'clock, two girls 
came riding up the road in good style. In a few min- 
utes two more came up. They all laughed and had 
a good time. 

"Now, Frank, we would like very much to have 
your company to church. We heard you were making- 
great preparations, and we decided to come over and 
go with you." 

"All right, that is very nice of you. It has been a 
long time since I had that pleasure." 

My feelings were beyond your conception. There 
was nothing I desired more than to get ahead of the 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 87 

Other boys. "Who came witli yoii?" "I came up with 
the boy that wore the iiii^j^er hat." 'I'hat is the way 
I beat them out. 

I can establish every word 1 have written. Vou 
mii^ht think 1 wouldn't have said so much about com- 
ing- home. It may be that you have heard all that you 
desire to hear concerning- the war. If that is the case, 
just hand tliis over to the next man. If everybody 
was like some few smart people — know all they care 
to know — the rising- generation would die in ignorance. 
If we never write what we know, if we never talk 
what we know, what use or good are we to anybody. 
Perhaps, I hope so, you might get some good ideas 
from this little volume. Some of the greatest joys of 
my life have come when I was the least expecting 
them. I have never written anything for publication 
before. I felt like I was not capable, and in wa'iting 
this, I do so because I feel like I know some things 
that no one else knows. If you have aspirations, and 
do not try to attain them you wall never realize them. 
That is why I am making this effort. No one mind 
will ever contain what all men know. I have thought 
a great many times, if I could write as intelligently 
and as forcil)ly as some men, I w^ould take a pleasure 
in writing. Perhaps I am to blame; maybe I should 
have started sooner. I know a great deal about mvself 
and you know a great deal about yourself; tliat is the 
reason we know so much about the other fellow, as 
to what he will do and what he will not do. 

Recently, Mr. Glanton, of the LaGrange National 
P.ank, gave me a group picture of Lee and his Gen- 
erals, the generals of the Confederacy. I looked upon 
the faces of our beloved generals, faces upon which 
1 had often looked in days gone by, and of most of 
them the younger generations have only pictures and 
statues to remind them, but the old soldier has a mem- 
ory of the trying times they faced together. Of the 
time when all nations, it seemed, turned their backs 
to the Confederacy. The determination to do or die 
was manifested in their heroic efforts; on the post 
watching the enemy, in the charge on the lines, and the 



88 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

long- forced marches, and the suffering and responsi- 
bility of both the private soldier and his general. And 
then let us not forget the women of the South, the 
fairest and sweetest on earth, who worked earh- and 
late, arnid hardships, to provide something to eat and 
something to wear for the boys at the front. 



BOOK FOUR. 



Some Incidents of the Great Four Years Struggle — 
Bitter Memories Softened by Time's Tender 
Hand. 



I rememl^er one dark, cold day, when tlie snow was 
falling- in sheets, we were camped in the great valley 
of V^irginia. ^^'e were not looking for orders to go 
anvwhere, while the snow was on the ground. All the 
soldiers were feeling good. We had an opportunity 
to hear from home, and nearly everybody was engaged 
in writing letters. A courier rode up to the Colonel's 
tent, told him to cook three days' rations and get 
ready to move tomorrow morning at five o'clock. 
General Early came over that day to see General E. L. 
Thomas about going over in the Allegheny mountains 
on a foraging expedition, to a little place called Peters- 
burg, about fifty miles from where we w^ere, over in 
the mountains. Don't you know Ave dreaded that wild 
chase through the sleet and snow? 

That was a great place for apple jack, and General 
Early drank a great deal. \\> decided that was the 
greatest reason for going over there. He claimed that 
there was a great quantity of sugar, coffee, meat, flour 
and fish there, but did not mention apple jack. 

^^> had a very cold march, but a glorious time. AVe 
camped on the mountain the second day. A great 
many people lived in the mountains. I never saw so 
much honey in all my life. \\'e were well supplied 
with honey and apple jack on that mountain; had sev- 
eral wagon loads of it. 

The next morning we started down on the other 
side of the mountain. General Early and General 
Thomas started out early. We learned from old citi- 

(89) 



90 ARMY LIFE kjF FRANK EDWARDS. 

zens that there was a large distillery at the foot of the 
mountain. \\> received orders for no one to go in 
that distillery. General Uarly placed two guards there 
and gave orders that no private soldier was to go in 
there. The boys w^ere all very angry. The officers 
went in and filled their canteens. General Early and 
General Thomas had 1)een there and engaged all they 
had on hand. They moved on about two miles and 
struck camp. We were ordered beyond wdiere they 
were camped. The boys decided to go into that dis- 
tillery. The guard ordered us to halt, but the boys 
went right in, I think there must have been about 
twenty-five l^arrels of apple jack in that l^uilding. The 
boys knocked the heads out of a great many of the 
barrels, and everybody drank all they wanted, filled 
up their canteens and went to the camp. All the 
officers were drunk, and the whole brigade of sol- 
diers. I never saw so many drunk men as I saw 
there. I never saw such a time as those boys had. 
Officers and men were drunk about three days. The 
tliermometer w^as down about zero. The boys drank 
a])ple jack and honey; they were the sickest men you 
ever saw. General Early found out that his men 
were drunk; he just fell over and laughed and ordered 
his cook to fix up a little more apple jack and honey. 

One of the colonels carried about two hundred men 
over to the little town of Petersburg, about four miles 
away, and captured a great many sacks of coffee and 
sugar and great quantities of meat and flour. We 
had all we wanted to eat. There were a great manv 
pretty girls over there ; before we came they claimed 
to be yankees ; when we made our appearance the\' 
were Southern. 

The people in this valley were very intelligent, had 
plenty to eat and drink. None of the men belonged to 
the army. They were for both sides. T saw two 
young ladies mount two as fine horses as I ever saw. 
They went out to the pasture, caught the horses, sad- 
dled them and rode away at a gallop. They would 
go in, make a fire and invite you in. 1 went in. I had 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 91 

been out in tlie sleet and snow, and such a chans^e 
made e\'ervl)ody sick. 

It wasn't lon^- l)efore Generals Early and Tlionias 
were all right again. We did not think of such a thing 
as a reconnoitering expedition over the mountains, 
but then we were glad we went, as we had such a 
good time, and we got something to have the best 
Christmas \>'e liad during the whole war. We had 
a great time on the return march. There was plenty 
of ice and snow and the weather was below zero. 
Sometimes a man would stumble and fall down the 
bluff. Somebody would ha\'e to go after him or he 
would never get back, as everything was slick with ice. 
General Early said he knew we would do what we 
did; knew we were going in that still, but he was 
compelled to give the order. 

The boys found out that the officers had about five 
barrels of apple jack in one of the wagons. They 
w^anted to get about two barrels of that. Finallv they 
succeeded in getting two five-gallon kegs ; they made 
arrangement wath an old citizen to take care of that 
apple jack until they could call for it, telling him the 
package belonged to General Early. The boys' idea 
was to go and get it afterw^ards and deliver it to Gen- 
eral Early to make him feel good. In about three 
weeks the boys thought they would go and get the 
apple jack for General Early. General Early had 
sto])})ed in passing by, found out about the package, 
and demanded it. The old gentleman delivered it, and 
(jeneral Early went back to camp the happiest man 
you ever saw. 

General Early sent out his courier to tell all those 
that were interested in the two kegs of apple jack to 
report to his office at once. Thev hesitated at first, 
but decided to report and give their reasons for mov- 
ing the kegs of apple jack. There w^ere eight of them. 
They had a spokesman. 

"I just want to know your motive in moving those 
kegs." 

"\\>11, General, we really didn't accomplish our 
intention. You know we all drank a great deal." 



92 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

"^>s, we spent a great Christmas." 

"Our motive was to hold up those two or three kegs 
two or three weeks, and then we expected to dehver 
them up to vou. We thought you would be delighted, 
but you found them before we got ready." 

*'I feel like you have made a correct statement of 
your intention. I could not understand your motive. 
I have felt better since I got that apple jack. As we 
are all interested, I will deliver one keg to you, and 
I will hold on to the other." 

"All rignt, we are satisfied." 

Explanation. 

Let not our fellow countrymen of the North mis- 
take the spirit in which this is written. I do not write 
of my great suffering at the prison at Point Lookout 
to perpetuate hostility. I want that clearly under- 
stood. It is not my intention or desire to rekindle 
the passions of the Civil AVar, or to foster or keep 
alive any bad feeling between any part of the Union. 
I claim that the people who have forgotten the heroic 
deeds of the brave men on both sides in that great 
struggle are dying at heart. I desire for the people of 
our whole land and country to know what an Ameri- 
can soldier will do and suffer and what they did en- 
dure in the great prisons of the North and of the 
South, for the love that they have inherited for lib- 
erty and justice. I can shake the hands of the L^nion 
saldiers, who fought the hardest, up to the wrist. 

When I stood in front of the brass howitzers, in the 
mud, undergoing- a great mental and physical strain, 
with the grape shot and canister and minie balls fall- 
ing all around me, I did not have time to look for 
rnany other things, and a great many things happened 
right by me, possibly, that I never s'aw. 

Because we were overwhelmed in that great strug- 
gle, is no reason for us to say we are ruined. The 
past is gone. We all agree now that it was for the 
greatest good of the country. I believe that God con- 
trols, and I am submissive. He has built us up again, 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 93 

and once ai^ain we are ])r()S])er()Us. more so than l)e- 
fore tlie strugi^le. We foui^lit for what was rig-lit, 
])ut God ruled that we should not l)ecome an inde- 
pendent nation. 

We have a great country, but I am afraid most of 
us do not appreciate it as we should. We should be 
the nar)piest people on earth. 

Most of the old people realize that we are living too 
fast. It takes all of our life to learn how to li\e, and 
most of us fail then. 

A Visit to Scenes of the War. 

In June, 1907, Judge J. B. Strong, Major C. Mc- 
Farland and I visited Richmond, Washington and 
Jamestown, and also the great battlefields of the Civil 
War, that being the time of the Confederate Reunion 
at Richmond. It was with a blending of joy and of 
sorrow that we passed over those well known places 
of our younger days ; and of gladness that the great 
hearts of the people of Richmond still beat for the 
"Old Comrades," and invited us to come and partake 
of the oceans and rivers of hospitality. The Confed- 
erate soldier will never forget the good people of \"ir- 
ginia, and especially the good mothers and daughters ; 
they hold a place in our hearts that will remain until 
we go down to the grave, to our last days on earth. 

The State of Virginia is the home of our loved ones 
that fell from '61 to '65 to rise no more until the Last 
Day. We will ever cherish the grand old state and 
the grand people. 

W'e attended the unveiling of the great monument 
to one of the great heroes, General J- E. B. Stuart. 
Thousands of the soldiers, after forty-three years had 
passed, stood and saw the unveiling of the monument 
on historic ground. They realized that General Stuart 
was the right man to place in command wdien Jackson 
was killed ; that he exercised great generalship in 
carrying out the plans of Jackson, the result of which 
was the glorious victory for the Confederates at Chan- 
cellorsville. 

We attended the reunion at Richmond and then 



94 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

went to Washington, arriving there about seven 
o'clock at night. We passed by the place where Gar- 
field was assassinated, a very lonely looking place. 
We stepped out on Pennsylvania avenue and I looked 
up towards the capitol of our great nation. I have 
never seen anything to equal that. Great monuments 
had been erected everywhere in memory of our brave 
bovs. 

We went to our hotel. The people seemed to be 
very social. I was somewhat surprised at this, as I 
have seen much more coldness shown in many of our 
Southern cities. 

On the second day of our visit in Washington we 
passed around the capitol. It is a great show^ place. 
People from all parts of the" w^orld were there. Wq 
saw many cranks. 

I recall one little incident that happened while we 
were there. There was a negro statue holding a torch 
at arm's length, and you had to look at it several times 
or get very close to it to discover that it was not real ; 
at least I did. About the time I passed by, I saw two 
men walking up to the statue. One of them looked at 
it very hard and passed on. I saw he was very much 
undecided as to whether it was a living negro or not. 
He called to his companion to hold up, and came back 
to within about ten feet of the statue, and, speaking 
to the statue, said, "Look here, don't you get any 
relief?" Of course, he did not receive a reply. Then 
he saw^ his mistake. I could hardly stand, I was laugh- 
ing so. The man was very badly fooled. 

W^e went through the great Congressional library, 
the largest in the world, which is located just east of 
the capitol. I can not describe all we saw^ in that 
building. We saw the finest portraits from all parts 
of the world, some of them very ancient, centuries old. 
Histories of all nations. You could read all the papers 
published in this country, and a good many published 
in dififerent parts of the world. 

We went around to the Hall of Fame. I did not 
much like to see the pictures of our Southern heroes 
placed a little back from tlie front. T noticed General 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 95 

Lee's just a little back. 1 said to liul,L;e Strong", *'H' 1 
could control just a few minutes, 1 would place Gen- 
eral Lee's picture a little nearer the front." You know 
it is natural for us to notice anythini;- that we do not 
consider treats our heroes right. 

We walked around the city. \\'e came up with a 
very nice looking gentleman. He proposed to show 
us the building where Lincoln was assassinated. He 
seemed to be very accommodating. We passed on 
around to a place that was a little dark. I told Judge 
Strong that I did not feel exactly right about the way 
we were being shown. Finally, we came to the win- 
dow where Booth made his leap for life. Everything 
was prearranged by Booth. Some one held his horse 
close by a large gate. He mounted his horse and rode 
around the dark way he came, making his way to the 
Potomac river bridge. Just as he reached the bridge 
his horse fell and broke his neck. 

\\'e passed on around near the White House, but 
did not get a glimpse of President Roosevelt. I sup- 
pose he was down at his little office near by, where 
he did most of his work. 

The Treasury and Post Office buildings are very 
attractive. 

The third day of June, 1907, we went to Blount 
A^ernon, Washington's old home, the Father of his 
Country. 1 have heard and read a great deal of his 
home and surroundings. I have heard my grandfather 
speak of that old goose quill pen. We passed through 
the grand old mansion. We saw his center table, ink 
stand, rocking chair and a great many other pieces 
of furniture. We saw the carriage that he used. We 
saw the great brick and rock tomb where his body 
was first laid to rest. In 1830 his body was moved 
about one hundred yards to a vault. We saw where 
his dear companion, the much loved Martha \\'ash- 
ington, was laid to rest. These two places, about two 
feet apart, are guarded by the nation. His home is 
situated on a high bluff on the banks of the Potomac. 
A\> saw his fishing trestle extending al)out one hun- 
dred vards over the waters of the Potomac, his old 



96 ARMY LIFE uF FRANK EDWARDS. 

fishing boat and even his fishing- tackle. There is in 
a small pasture just back of his residence, and between 
that and the river, a half dozen deer, the same num- 
ber that he left there at the time of his death. We 
saw the wonderful farm lands very smooth and pretty. 
The cedars, set in rows, looked very old. I had desired 
to see Washington's home ever since I was a boy, 
and I was delighted when I did see it. It was a great 
pleasure to me. We steamed back to W'ashington. 

W'e spent a most enjoyable night in the city. The 
next morning we visited Arlington, just down the 
Potomac. W'e certainly felt interested in General 
Lee's home. And we desired to locate the last rest- 
ing place of some of our best friends, those that had 
be^n wounded and laid to rest at Lee's home, one of 
the grandest spots on earth — during most of the war 
in possession of the enemy. 

We arrived at Arlington at ten o'clock. \\'e passed 
around and through General Lee's residence, the loveli- 
est spot on earth to him. The whole house, built in 
the Colonial style, -the broad verandahs were sup- 
ported by substantial columns, and overlooked the 
waters of the Potomac, and at a distance you could 
see the capitol of our nation. May his home stand 
there as a monument to the beautiful city of Wash- 
ington for years to come. 

We next visited the lovely cemetery, where a great 
many Union soldiers are laid to rest. We passed 
around the Southern sections. It was divided into 
half-acre lots. I saw the sign of the Georgia lot. The 
marble heads stood very thick. I stepped to the third 
head and saw the name of one of my best friends. 
No one ever knew what became of him. I called to 
Judge Strong; he and three or four neighbor boys 
came up and saw the name. WHiile standing there we 
wept over our brave boys, after forty-three years had 
passed away. W^e had not known whether they were 
dead or alive. And the grandest thought of all was 
they were buried in the soil of the home of General 
Lee. 

I think that there must be at least three hundred 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 97 

from C7eoro-ia. and other Southern states in proportion, 
laid to rest on tlie banks of the Potomac, the liome of 
the chief of the Confederacy. 

^ Tlie Union army thought to do a great injury to 
General Lee to confiscate that home and make of it 
a cemetery for their dead. Hut they could not have 
selected a more appropriate spot, or one that would 
give more lasting honor to their dead. Though when 
they did it they were i'>-norant of what the confiscation 
would mean, they erected a greater monument than 
any erected before or since, in memory of tlieir soldiers. 

I feel sure that what I have written will meet the 
approbation of all veterans. Xo honor thev have ever 
bestowed upon their dead will equal the 'honor that 
has been bestowed upon our brave boys, buried in the 
soil of the home of General R. E. Lee, one of the great- 
est generals, one of the greatest men, one oi the 
grandest Christian gentlemen of any age. I have not 
the command of language sufficient to g'ive him justice. 

He said at Appomattox, "I had rather died on the 
heights of Virginia with my heroes than to give that 
order for the different commands to march to the front 
and prepare to surrender." 

We passed around to the monument placed to the 
memory of ten thousand unknown dead Union sol- 
diers. That is very sad indeed, to bury men where 
they are not identified by any one. A great many of 
our boys fell dead on the heights of Virginia, Penn- 
sylvania and Maryland, Georgia, Tennessee and else- 
where ; and no one knows where their bodies are 
placed. Not even the sweetest flowers are placed 
upon the graves of the unknown dead. Not a tear fell 
when they were buried as the unknown. My friends, 
God knows his own. A\^e returned to Washino-ton 
City. 

The next day we boarded the vessel for Jamestown, 
to visit the great exposition. It was three hundred 
miles to Jamestown. All kinds of people were on that 
boat, from all parts of the world, who had all kinds 
of games, cards, checkers, keno, and music, vocal and 
instrumental. It is delightful scenery along the banks 

7 ED 



98 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

of the Potomac, and everybody seemed to have a joy- 
ful time. 

As we steamed dov^n the Potomac I thought of the 
old prison. I said to the captain, "Don't we pass by 
old Point Lookout?" 

"Yes; I suppose you were a Confederate soldier?" 

''I was." 

"I was a member of the Union army." 

"I was a Confederate soldier, and fou2;"ht vou verv 
hard." 

"Give me your hand ; I love the soldiers that fought 
me at the front. So many men claim to be soldiers 
that are not. You fought for what vou thought was 
right." 

"I thought I was right ; from the fact that I fought 
for a principle of justice, I know that I was right." 

"Just to show you that I am your friend, I will go 
considerably out of my course to show you that old 
spot." 

"How far is that from here?" 

"One hundred miles. I will let you know when we 
get close." 

"All right." 

In the afternoon al)out 3 130 the captain told me 
that the old prison ground was then in sight. 

An Everlasting Monument. 

The Union army could not confer a greater honor 
on their dead than to bury them in the soil of the 
state of General R. E. Lee, the greatest man of the 
Civil War. When I say greatest, I mean it in every 
sense of the word. 

The North, at the time they confiscated General 
Lee's home, cared or thought not of the results of that 
act; only wished to do him as great injury as possible. 

Monuments have been raised in honor of the Blue 
and the Gray all over the United States ; but 1 feel 
that there is one that surpasses them all, where the 
greatest number of our best men fell, where the heroes 
fell, where the greatest generalship ever seen on this 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 99 

continent was shown, the most daring charges were 
made — the great lUue Ridge and Allegheny moun- 
tains stand today a witness for the Blue and the Gray ; 
they looked down on the misery and the woe ; on the 
great battles in Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, 
and they stand today a monument that will always 
stand. 

Some Rapid Marching. 

We marched very hard for several days, through a 
fine country, and arrived at the peninsular of York- 
town. There was clover there as high as your head. 
\\> marched right into Washington's old works. 
There was the old ditch and parapets where his can- 
non Avere, nearly a century before that time. We had 
a skirmish at Yorktown. We were ordered back to 
Richmond, through rain and mud, over the w^orst 
roads I ever saw. We next fought the enemy at 
Seven Pines. Colonel Gus Bull was killed there. A 
braver soldier and better officer never lived. 

After the battle of Seven Pines, we moved up to 
Richmond. General Joe Johnston was in command 
of the Confederate forces around Richmond, and Gen- 
eral McClelland in command of the Union army. 

General McClelland said he was going on to Rich- 
mond — would eat breakfast there the next morning. 
We were ready at any time he advanced, and when he 
did advance his army w^as routed the first day. He 
came again the next day, with the same result. Gen- 
eral Johnston was wounded in the seven days' battle. 

General R. E. Lee was placed in command of the 
forces. He changed everything, nearly. General 
Jackson was placed on the left. He marched around 
to the rear of the Union army and there was a general 
giving back of the entire Union army in five days' 
fighting. General ^McClelland was badly defeated. 

' We passed on up the valley to Sharpsburg where we 
fought a hard battle. We next went to Harper's 
Ferry, where we got about twenty thousand prisoners. 
We next crossed over into Maryland. We had a great 



100 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

time over there, plenty of good fat beef and loaf bread, 
chickens and fat ducks. We came back to Manassas 
in August, '62, and fought a hard battle there. We 
went to Fredericksburg and fought a hard battle there 
on December 13, '62. We lost a great many of our 
boys there. General Cobb was killed at that place. 
We rested in winter quarters. There was plenty of 
snow and sleet. We rested until about March, '63. 

The Battle of Chancellorsville. 

I wish to relate a few incidents that happened at 
the battle of Chancellorsville. 

Our command marched from Fredericksburg in 
May, '63, forty-two miles to Chancellorsville. About 
six o'clock in the afternoon we arrived at the battle 
ground. That was Saturday. They had been fighting 
all day and were still fighting that night. Our com- 
mand marched in parallel with the Federal line. We 
marched to the left wing of the army and threw out 
our skirmish line. I was on the skirmish line that 
night, close to the enemy. We lay very still all night. 
It was a cold night. I was wet with perspiration, and 
I was so cold or excited it seemed that I could see 
the leaves on the bushes shake. The lines of the op- 
posing armies were only from fifty to one hundred 
yards apart. 

It was about six o'clock that Jackson was killed. 
W^e did not hear of this until the next morning. He 
had placed about six or eight men in a little settle- 
ment road and gave them orders to shoot anybody 
that came up the road. About thirty minutes later, 
Jackson and his staff went up the road. The guard 
fired. Jackson was severely wounded, together with 
two of his staff. He thought he knew the country, 
but he made a fatal mistake that night. He came up 
the road that he had given particular orders about. 
The guard obeyed his command and he was shot. It 
was the greatest error of the Civil War. 

General J. E. B. Stuart was then in command of 
Jackson's lines. We were ordered to advance with 
our whole strength at davlieht. One of the cannons 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 101 

ill the center i^ave the signal to advance. That was 
one of the times that I really dreaded the conse- 
quences. I had not slept that nii^ht. 

When the cannon fired everything was ready. I 
was in no big hurry to start. About that time the 
commander of the skirmish line came around and said, 
"Get up and advance until you strike their main line, 
then fire and charge." When we arose the skirmish 
line of the enemy fired. We didn't pay any attention 
to that. We went right on until we came to the main 
line of the enemy, fired, gave a yell and charged. Their 
whole line gave w^ay against the charge of our skir- 
mishers. We lost a good many killed and wounded in 
that charge. 

The enemy's batteries were throwing shells in all 
directions. One shell struck an oak limb close to my 
foot ; the limb fiew back and tore off the sole of my 
shoe. About that time I heard the most terrific firing 
on our right about five hundred yards away. It 
seemed to be in front of the Chancellorsville House. 
In about an hour the whole line was engaged. The 
enemy began to give way all down the line, wnth our 
boys pushing them. In front of the Chancellorsville 
House they seemed to be yery stubborn, where they 
had thirty pieces of artillery. Our forces charged 
those cannon several times before they gaye w^ay. The 
brave North Carolinians charged and moved the 
enemy from those guns. That w^as one of the most dar- 
inof charges eyer made by our troops. I neyer saw such 
destruction ; the undergrowth and stumps w^ere torn all 
to pieces. The boys from North Carolina suffered ; their 
dead w^ere lying as close as I ever saw^ them ; but they 
captured, I think, sixteen of those fine guns. The 
enemy was forced back with great loss. Those troops 
deserved the greatest honor for their courage and dar- 
ing in that battle. 

While standing there I saw the most touching scene 
I ever saw. Generals Lee and Stuart came up the 
road. Our dead and wounded, together with that 
of the enemy, were lying all around. AMien they 
came up, the men cheered. They halted about two 



102 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

minutes for our men to move the dead and wounded 
out of the road. I saw men raise their hats to them, 
though they were lying there with their Hfe blood 
flowing away, and never expected to be moved alive ; 
men would raise their hands that never saw either of 
the generals, though their faces and hands were cov- 
ered with blood. Generals Lee and Stuart could not 
hold back their emotions. When the road was cleared 
they rode away with their hats off. General Hooker 
recrossed the Rappanannock. He lost his "hooker" 
and his job, and came very near losing his army. 

General Jackson, on the night he was killed, in- 
tended to capture General Hooker. He had intended 
to pursue him all night oaturday night. But he fell 
before he accomplished his w^ork. General Jackson 
was one of the most loved generals in the Confederate 
army. He was loved by the most humble, he was 
loved by the highest, and the love of the men of his 
own command was unbounded ; he was loved bv the 
mothers of the South, and he had deep hold on the 
hearts of the whole Southern people. 

I passed over the hill to get a drink of cool water. 
I saw a great many of our boys and of the enemy 
lying about. I noticed out to the left a blue coat sit- 
ting up against a tree. He seemed to be unconscious. 
I went out that way to see if I could aid him in any- 
way. I saw he could not possibly live but a few min- 
utes. I raised his hat and saw his skull was broken 
all around. I stepped down and filled up my canteen 
full of water and went back and bathed his head in 
cold water. It seemed to relieve him to some extent. 
I bathed his lips. Then I went for the second canteen 
of water. As I was bathing his face and lips again, I 
saw two yankees coming. I grabbed my gun and said, 
"Surrender, sir." They seemed to be very obedient. 

"We have a passport from General Lee to look after 
the dead." Knowing the regulations of war, I took 
the pass and read it. 

"All right," I replied. 

"We would like to see tliis man." They stepped up 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 



103 



and looked at tlie man, then came l)ack and -ave me 

their hands. 

"We have l^een looking fcjr uur brother that was 
wounded m vour lines. This is he. We desn-e to 
thank you for the kindness you have done. 

T gave them my name and address, by request. 
Thev were from Pennsylvania. 

Foraging for Necessities. 

One of the bovs and I decided to go out one day 
and get some soap and salt. We could not get our 
hands clean unless we made up dough or rubbed them 
in the sand ; and, of course, the boys preferred the 
latter. We could scarcely get salt to put m anythmg 
A tremendous snow was falling when we started and 
we could hardly see our way, and we became very cold. 

We called at different houses and finally about tour 
miles from where we were camped we came to a verv 
fine house. The old Dutchman came out and asked 
us to come in and warm. I went out on the PO^'ch to 
o-et a drink of water, thinking maybe I would find a 
piece of soap. I found a piece of soap, slipped it into 
mv pocket and went on into the house. 1" j^/^w 
minutes both of us began to turn sick ; we had been 
so cold the sudden change to the good warm room 
made us sick. The old man seemed to have a good 
deal of sympathv; he stepped to the closet and 
brought out a large iug of brandy. I was a litt e 
slowl perhaps, in taking mine. There were two girls 
there, and one of them said, "We all take a toddy here 
everv morning." I thought I would not refuse under 
the circumstances. We both drank a very good drink, 
and it seemed to be all we wanted; even the soap 
and salt were forgotten. We remained a few minutes 
and one of the young ladies brought out two bottles, 
one for each of us. We were now thoroughly warm 
and started on our journey. 

W^e came to another nice place. I stepped up to 
the dining room. window and asked them if they had 
anv pies or anything of that kind to^sell. 



104 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

The young- lady laughed very heartily and said, 
''No, sir, we haven't anything for sale.'' 

We went back to camp. All the boys were very 
anxious for a bath. I told them to come up and take 
a bath, that I had found a piece of soap. 1 passed 
the water to them while they bathed. I came last. I 
saw they were laughing, but I did not know what 
was the matter. I scrubbed away, scratched the soap 
a little and found it was a slick rock. You never heard 
boys holler so loud in your life. The boys notified the 
whole army to look out for the man that stole the rock. 
The first letters I received from home after that stated 
they regretted that I had left the army and gone to 
stealing rocks. Along in the night some one would 
wake up and yell, "Who stole the rock." And about 
five hundred would answer, "Edwards." Wg had 
to do something to divert our minds. Perhaps we 
would be playing ball when some one would say, "Fall 
in line," and maybe we would be fighting the yankees 
in less than an hour. 

Of all my close calls in the war, I think my life in 
prison came nearer killing me than anything else. 
I don't think the commander of the post could have 
been aware of the terrible condition of evervthins:, 
of the thirst, the hunger, the body pest, no tents, no 
place to sleep except on the muddy ground, and you 
had to sit up and sleep, if you could ; and, worse than 
all, were the curses and kicks from the negro guards. 

At night, the guards, while walking about the 
streets, would shoot at random, you w^ould hear some 
soldier yell with pain, and the next morning he would 
be carried to the hospital. The guard justified them- 
selves by claiming that the wounded man had dis- 
obeyed orders, that he was compelled to shoot. 

Reminiscent. 

A great many men in the army would stand and 
suffer themselves to be captured rather than go in 
battle. They did that all through the war. They 
hardlv ever came back. Thev would take the oath 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 105 

and stay there. I never surrendered except when I 
liad to.' When I surrendered in that fort, I didn't 
have a cartridge in my ])ox. 1 even 1)orrowed cart- 
ridges from some of the l)oys that happened to have 
some. I thought we would all be murdered in that 
fort. I think yet the colonel of our regiment was 
murdered after he surrendered, as he was never ac- 
counted for. It was while we were on the way to the 
fort that I lost my shoe, and never wore any more 
until I reached home. 

1 have often thought of that terrible night when I 
captured that vankee by that pine ; the man that was 
on post one mi'le below me was killed that night, about 
thirty yards from his post. When he saw they were 
going to capture him, he left his post and was shot 
by the enemy. I felt like that if I left that pine I 
would be shot, and if I remained, I would have a better 
chance, though when I heard them coming through 
the bushes, I thought there was more than one, maybe 
several; I thought if I shot, they would shoot me; 
if I ordered them to surrender, they would shoot. 
When he came out of the bushes, I could not see but 
one, and I thought the best thing to do w^as to cap- 
ture him. 
Why I Did Not Go Back to See My Girl in Virginia. 

Some of you may want to know why I never went 
back to see my best girl, especially since she was 
undoubtedly the means of saving my life when she 
sent that five dollar gold piece to me. I can't see now 
how I could have possibly lived without that money. 
I paid out twenty cents a day for bread. 

But, I was not the same boy when I was released 
from prison that I was when I was captured. My 
strength, both of my mind and body, was nearly gone. 
I could think of nothing except something to eat and 
drink; I wanted water, and I wanted bread; our minds 
rested upon that one thing for days at a time. 

I don't think I was responsible for anything that 
occurred just at the time I was released from prison. 



106 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

I had not will power to know what I was doing — just 
drifted along with the others. 

After I had been home about twelve months, I wrote 
to her ; wrote that I hoped she would forgive me under 
the circumstances. I told her of my life in prison, 
and that the money she sent me saved my life ; but I 
hoped it would not be long until I saw her again. She 
rei)lied in ten days. 

I have received a great many letters in my life, l)ut 
I never before nor since received such a letter as the 
one I received from that girl. She had heard se\eral 
times that I was killed on April 2, '65, at Petersburg, 
and that officer by whom she had sent the five dollar 
gold piece, she had never heard from. She decided 
that I was dead and she would never see me again. 
I had written her telling of my life and that I would 
see her again, if God would preserve my life. I was 
greatly shocked wdien she wrote that she had been 
married just two weeks before she received my letter; 
that her joy was great to know that I was still living. 
I did not reply to her letter. I kept her letter in my 
trunk ten years. I have outlived all that part of my 
life, but still I hope the latter part of my life will be 
as honorable as the first part of it was. 

Finale. 

The reason I have written what little I have of my 
life is to let the rising generation know something of 
the hardships which the Confederate soldier had to 
undergo. Not that I am unwilling for the generals 
of the army to receive all the honor given them, but 
that the private soldier shall, also, in a measure, re- 
ceive what is his due. While the general in com- 
mand gives the order. "Forward," it rests with the 
private soldier to do the fighting; if he has the interest 
of his country at heart, is willinp- to go into unknown 
dangers ; if he is willing to leave his father and mother, 
his brothers and sisters, his dear companion and chil- 
dren, to him the dearest objects on earth, and when 
he is ordered to hold a position or die, if he obeys he 



ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 107 

is a oood soldier, and is entitled to as much credit as 
the general. There are times when he is hungry and 
half clad ; he may suffer in a war prison, and then he 
ready to sacrifice his life if his country demands it. 
The good private soldier will do all this for the love 
of justice and liberty, for what he thinks is right. 

My desire is that you know some of the things that 
the private soldier has to endure. What T suff"ered, 
thousands of others suffered. Take tliat incident at 
the pine when I captured that yankee. I was ordered 
there, and when I went I was risking my life. The 
o^reatest responsibility rested upon me. The most 
desired information at that time was to know what 
the enemy was going- to do. I got the information 
wanted by General A. T. Hill at the risk of my life. 
General Hill moved forward and achieved a great vic- 
tory, mainly because of the information I obtained 
for him. The private soldier should be heard ; T am 
defending myself. Not that I did anything more than 
could have been done by a good many others. I was 
quite young when I volunteered to serve my country. 
I never tried for an officer's place during the war. 
And I have never asked for a civil office since the war. 
T can stand and feel very sorry for the fellow that gets 
defeated and still hold my place as a private citizen. 

T am not writing- this to please the public, but for 
the old soldiers ; not for the people that are looking 
for something untrue I write what I have seen and 
felt. 

The commissioned officers in the Confederate army 
received from $750 to $5,000 per year. The private 
soldier received $ti per month. The officers paid for 
their rations from their salary: the private soldier 
had his furnished to him. The officer purchased what 
he desired from the government. The private soldier 
received one spoonful of peas, one cup of flour, one 
teaspoonful of salt and one cut of meat, if any, for his 
rations. The officer visited the city at his leisure; 
the private soldier had to carrv a pass. 

After a battle each side buried their dead, usually 
under a flag- of truce. Often the dead w^ere buried all 



108 ARMY LIFE OF FRANK EDWARDS. 

together. It was not often that the enemy buried 
our dead when we held the ground. At Chancellors 
ville, I saw three hundred buried in one grave, in a 
gully ; it rained that night ; the bodies held the sand, 
and everything was covered smooth. I have seen men 
buried with a part of their head and feet out. It is 
horrible, but such is war. 

Who is the man that is favorably known today.'' 
He is the man that lives up to the great principles of 
the moral law, the man who has merit and who lives 
according to the moral law, has the confidence of the 
people. May it forever be said that the old Confederate 
soldiers were moral men, and may they have the con- 
fidence of all the people as long as they live. 



MAY 19 1911 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

!I|IN!I III! Ill I 



013 7642177 




